John Barleycorn


John Barleycorn


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THERE came three men from out the West
Their victory to try,
And they have taken a solemn oath
John Barleycorn should die.
Sing ri fol lol, the diddle al the dee,
Right fal leero dee.

They took a plough and ploughed him in,
Laid clods upon his head:
And they have taken a solemn oath
John Barleycorn is dead.

So then he lay for a full fortnight
Till the dew from heaven did fall:
John Barleycorn sprung up again
And that surprised them all.

But when he faced the summer sun
He looked both pale and wan,
For all he had a spiky beard
To shew he was a man.

But soon came men with sickles sharp
And chopped him to the knee.
They rolled and tied him by the waist
And served him barb'rously.

With forks they stuck him to the heart
And banged him over stones,
And sent the men with holly clubs
To batter at his bones.

But Barleycorn has noble blood,
It lives when it is shed.
It turns a tinker to a lord
It fills the empty head.

It makes the widow's heart to sing,
And it turns the coward bold:
It fills the cupboard and the purse
With bread and meat and gold.
Sing ri fol lol, the diddle al the dee,
Right fal leero dee.
Copyright in public domain.

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