Lyrics as sung by Martyn Wyndham-Read on "A Wench a Whale and a Pint of Good Ale" 1966

THE FARMER'S BOY
(as sung by Martyn Wyndham-Read)

The sun had set behind the hill
Across the dreary moor.
When poor and lame a boy there came
up to the farmer’s door;
“Can you tell me if here it be
That I can seek employ.”

”To plough and sow and reap and mow,
and be a farmer’s boy, and be a farmer’s boy.”
”To plough and sow and reap and mow,
and be a farmer’s boy, and be a farmer’s boy.”

“My father’s dead and mother’s left
With children great and small.
And what is worse for mother still,
I’m the eldest of them all;
Though little, I’ll work as hard as a Turk
If you’ll give me employ,

”To plough and sow and reap and mow,
and be a farmer’s boy, and be a farmer’s boy.”
”To plough and sow and reap and mow,
and be a farmer’s boy, and be a farmer’s boy.”

“And if you will not me employ,
One favour do I ask:
Pray shelter me till break of day
From this cold winter’s blast.
At break of day. I’ll creep away,
Elsewhere to seek employ,

”To plough and sow and reap and mow,
and be a farmer’s boy, and be a farmer’s boy.”
”To plough and sow and reap and mow,
and be a farmer’s boy, and be a farmer’s boy.”

“Come try the lad,” the mistress said,
“Let him no further seek.”
“O, do, dear father,” young daughter cried,
While tears ran down her cheek;
“He’d work if he could, but ’tis hard to want food
And wander for employ

”To plough and sow and reap and mow,
and be a farmer’s boy, and be a farmer’s boy.”
”To plough and sow and reap and mow,
and be a farmer’s boy, and be a farmer’s boy.”

Now when the lad became a man,
The good old farmer died,
And left the lad the farm he had,
And daughter to be his bride;
The lad that was, the farm now has,
And he oft-times thinks with joy,

Of the lucky day he came that way
To be a farmer’s boy, to be a farmer’s boy.
”To plough and sow and reap and mow,
and be a farmer’s boy, and be a farmer’s boy.”