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THERE were three kings from the
West, Their victory to try; And they have taken a solemn oath, John Barleycorn should die. Fol the dol the didiay, Fol the dol the di-di-a-ge wo. They took a plough and ploughed him in, Laid clods upon his head; And they have taken a solemn oath, John Barleycorn is dead. Fol the dol, etc. So then he lay for a full fortnight, Till the dew on him did fall: Then Barleycorn sprung up again, And that surprised them all. Fol the dol, etc. There he remained till midsummer, And looked both pale and wan; Then Barleycornhe got a beard, And so became a man. Fol the dol, etc. Then they sent men with scythes so sharp, To cut him off at knee; And then poor Johnny Barleycorn, And served him barbarously. Fol the dol, etc. O Barleycorn is the choicest grain That e'er was sown on land; It will do more than any grain, By the turning of your hand. Fol the dol the didiay, Fol the dol the di-di-a-ge wo. |
