The Ploughboy.

It is of a pretty Plough-boy was ploughing of his land,
His horses stopped underneath the shade;
It was down in yonder plain he was whistling at his plough,
And his chance it was to meet a pretty maid.

CHORUS.

Pretty maid—
And his chance it was to meet a pretty maid.
He sang to her a song as he ploughed it along,
Saying you are a maid of higher degree,
If I should fall in love, and your parents not approve,
There’s the next thing they’ll send me to the sea.
O soon her aged father he came for to know
That in love with a ploughing boy she was;
A press gang he did send, he pressed her love away,
And they sent him to the wars to be slain.
Then she dress’d herself in man’s attire,
And her pockets she wel’ fill’d with gold;
And see how she trip’d the street so nimbly and so neat
And walked like a jolly sailor bold.
Now the first that she met was a jolly bold sailor;
Did you meet with my pretty ploughing boy?
Yes he’s just gone on the deep, and I’m going to the fleet;
O, he says, my pretty man, can you row, can you row?
They both jump’d in the boat, and they rowed to the fleet,
To the ship that her ploughing boy was in;
O Captain, she did cry, with the tears all in her eye,
Will you let me have my pretty ploughing boy?
One hundred bright guineas and more she pull’d out
Of her pocket, where she had gold in store,
And strew’d it about till she found her ploughboy out,
And she bought him and she brought him to the shore.
O now this couple’s landed and joined hand in hand,
In spite of all friends or all foes;
The bells they did ring, and the maiden she did sing,
When she’d got her young lad she adored—she adored!

*Transcriber’s note: Dugaw’s catalogue contains multiple variants of this ballad; this is the first of the variants listed. To review other variants of this ballad, please consult the Dugaw catalogue.