I am a ploughboy stout and strong as ever drove a team, And three years since as I lay abed I had a dreadful dream, I thought I drove my master's team both Dobbin, Belle and Star, Before a stiff and armoured plough as all my master's are. I found the ground was baked so hard 'twas more like bricks than clay I could not cut my furrow through, nor would my beasts obey, The more I whipped them, slashed and swore, the less my horses tried, Dobbin lay down, and Belle and Star ignored my threats and cries.
Till lo! above me appeared a youth he seemed to hang in air, And all around a dazzling light which made my eyes to stare, Give over, cruel wretch, he cried, no more thy beasts abuse Think, if the ground was not so hard they would there work refuse? Besides, I heard thee curse and swear, as if dumb beasts could know, What all thy oaths and cursing meant, It's better far than gold, That you should know that there is one who knows thy sins full well And what shall be thy after doom another shall thee tell.
No more he said, but light as air he vanished from my sight, And with him went the sun's bright beams, 'twas all as dark as night, The thunder roared fro underground, the earth appeared to gape, Blue flames broke forth and in those flames appeared an awful shape. I soon shall call thee mine, he cried, with a voice so clear and deep, And quivering like an aspen leaf I woke from out my sleep. So ponder well, you plough-boys all, this dream that I have told And if the work goes hard with you, it's worth its weight in gold.