Chorus:
The lark in the morning, she rises up her nest
She goes off in the air with the dew all on her breast
And like the jolly ploughboy, she whistles and she sings
She goes home in the evening with the dew all on her wings
Oh Roger the ploughboy he is a dashing blade
He goes whistling and singing for yonder lefty shade
He met with dark-eyed Susan, she handsome I declare
And she's far more enticing then the birds all in the air
As they were coming home from the rakes of the town
The meadows been all mown and the grass had been cut down
As they should chance to tumble on the new mown hay
Oh he's kissed me now or never, this bonny lass would say
When 20 long weeks were over and past
Her mammy asked the reason why she thickened round the waist
It was the pretty ploughboy , this young girl then did say
For he'd asked me for to tumble on the new mown hay.
Here's a health to your ploughboys wherever you may be
That likes to have a bonny lass asitting on each knee
With a pint of good strong porter he'll whistle and he'll sing
And the ploughboy is as happy as a prince or a king