I will go with my father a-ploughing
To the green field by the sea,
And the rooks and the crows and the
seagull
Will come flocking after me.
I will sing to the patient horses
With the lark in the while of the
air,
And my father will sing the plough-song
That blesses the cleaving share.
I will go with my father a-sowing
To the red field by the sea,
And the rooks and the gulls and the
starlings
Will come flocking after me.
I will sing to the striding sowers
With the finch on the greening slow,
And my father will sing the seed-song
That only the wise men know.
I will go with my father a-reaping
To the brown field by the sea,
And the geese and the crows and the
children
Will come flocking after me.
I will sing to the tanfaced reapers
With the wren in the heat of the sun,
And my father will sing the scythe-song
That joys for the harvest done. |
