JOHN BARLEYCORN: A BALLAD
(Robert Burns)
There was three kings into the east,
Three kings both great and high,
And they hae sworn a solemn oath
John Barleycorn should die.
They took a plough and plough`d him down,
Put clods upon his head,
And they hae sworn a solemn oath
John Barleycorn was dead.
But the cheerful Spring came kindly on`
And show`rs began to fall;
John Barleycorn got up again,
And sore surpris`d them all.
The sultry suns of Summer came,
And he grew thick and strong:
His head weel arm`d wi pointed spears,
That no one should him wrong.
The sober Autumn enter`d mild,
When he grew wan and pale;
His bendin joints and drooping head
Show`d he began to fail.
His colour sicken`d more and more,
He faded into age;
And then his enemies began
To show their deadly rage.
They`ve taen a weapon, long and sharp,
And cut him by the knee;
They ty`d him fast upon a cart,
Like a rogue for forgerie.
They laid him down upon his back,
And cudgell`d him full sore.
They hung him up before the storm,
And turn`d him o`er and o`er.
They filled up a darksome pit
With water to the brim,
They heav`d in John Barleycorn-
There, let him sink or swim!
They laid him upon the floor,
To work him farther woe;
And still, as signs of life appear`d,
They toss`d him to and fro.
They wasted o`er a scorching flame
The marrow of his bones;
But a miller us`d him worst of all,
For he crush`d him between two atones.
And they hae taen his very hero blood
And drank it round and round;
And still the more and more they drank,
Their joy did more abound.
John Barleycorn was a hero bold,
Of noble enterprise;
For if you do but taste his blood,
`Twill make your courage rise.
`Twill make a man forget his woe;
`Twill heighten all his joy:
`Twill make the widow`s heart to sing,
Tho the tear were in her eye.
Then let us toast John Barleycorn,
Each man a glass in hand;
And may his great posterity
Ne`er fail in old Scotland!
TUNE: Lull me beyond thee
filename[ BARLEY1
ARB
===DOCUMENT BOUNDARY===
