The ploughman

The ploughman he's a bonny lad,

His mind is ever true, jo,

His garters knit below his knee,

His bonnet it is blue, jo.

Then up wi't a', my ploughman lad,

And hey, my merry ploughman!

Of a' the trades that I do ken,

Commend me to the ploughman.

My ploughman he comes hame at e'en,

He's aften wet and weary:

Cast aff the wet, put on the dry,

And gae to bed, my dearie.

Then up wi't a', &c.

I will wash my ploughman's hose,

And I will dress his o'erlay:

I will mak my ploughman's bed,

And chear him late and early.

Then up wi't a', &c.

Snaw-white stockings on his legs,

And siller buckles glancin,

A gude blue bannet on his head,

And O, but he was handsome!

Then up wi't a', &c.