The Farmer's Boy (2)

The sun was sinking in the west,
When coldly blew the wind
When tired and lame, a poor boy came
Un to a farmer's door;
Saying "Is there anyone within
Who would give to me employ?
To plow, to sow, to reap, to mow,
And be a farmer's boy?"


And if you cannot hire me,
One favor I would ask.
Would you give me one night's lodging
From this cold and wintry blast!
And early in the morning
I'll go wandering for employ,
To plow, to sow, to reap, to mow,
And be a farmer's boy.

"My father's dead, my mother's living
With six little children small.
And the worst of it is for my poor mother
I'm the oldest of them all.
And the worst of it is for my poor mother
I'm the oldest of them all,
To plow, to sow, to reap, to mow,
And be a farmer's boy.

"Oh, hire him, the woman replied,
"No farther let him go!"
"Oh yes" cried their only daughter dear
While the tears down her cheeks did flow,
"For a boy that is willing to earn his bread
Should not wander for empioy,
To plow, to sow, to reap, to mow,
And be a farmer's boy.

'Twas but a few years after,
This good old farmer died,
Left him fifty acres of good land
And his daughter for his bride.
His friends they all wished him luck,
While the neighbors wished him joy.
'Twas a lucky day he passed that way
To be a farmer's boy.

From Traditional American Folk Songs
Collected from Steve Wadswortb, 1969. He learned it from his mother.
DT #538
Laws Q30
RG
oct96