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The Pretty Ploughboy

anonyme
Langue: anglais



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The Pretty Ploughboy was printed on a broadside by Burbage and Stretton sometime between 1797 and 1807. It appeared on numerous broadsides throughout the 19th century. Several of these can be found at the Bodleian Library.

W. Percy Merrick collected this version of The Pretty Ploughboy in Sussex. The version collected was incomplete and was supplemented by verses from broadsides and versions collected by others. The arrangement is by R. Vaughan Williams.

The song was also known as The Jolly Ploughboy, The Simple Ploughboy and Little Plowing Boy. It was collected by Rev. S. Baring-Gould and others throughout England. It was also collected in Scotland, Limerick, North Carolina, Virginia and Nova Scotia.

Contemplator
It's of a pretty ploughboy, stood gazing over his team
Where his horses stood underneath the shade,
The wild youth goes whistling, goes whistling to his plough,
And by chance he used to meet a pretty maid.
A pretty maid, and by chance he used to meet a pretty maid.

If I should fall in love with you, it's my pretty maid,
And when your parents came for to know
The very first thing will be, they will send me to the sea;
They will send me in the wars to be slain!
To be slain, they will send me in the wars to be slain!

Now when her aged parents they came for to know,
The ploughboy was ploughing on the plain.
The press-gang was sent and they pressed her love away
And they sent him in the wars to be slain.
To be slain, and they sent him in the wars to be slain.

'Twas early the next morning when she early rose,
With her pockets well lined with gold.
See how she traced the streets, with the tears all in her eyes,
In search of her jolly ploughboy bold.
Her jolly poughboy bold, in search of her jolly ploughboy bold.

The very first she met was a brisk young sailor bold.
Have you seen my pretty ploughboy? 0 she cried.
He's gone unto the deep, he's a-sailing in the fleet,
Will you ride, pretty maid, will you ride?
Will you ride, will you ride, pretty maid, will you ride?

She rode till she came to the ship her love was in,
Then unto the captain did complain.
Said she I've come to seek for my pretty ploughboy
That is sent to the wars to be slain.
To be slain, that is sent to the wars to be slain.

She took out fifty guineas and trotted them on the floor
And gently she told them all o'er,
And when she'd got her ploughboy all safe in her arms
Then she rowed the pretty ploughboy safe on shore.
Safe on shore, then she rowed the pretty ploughboy safe on shore.

3/3/2012 - 20:59



Langue: anglais

La versione cantata da Harry Cox
source

Harry Cox
THE PRETTY PLOUGHBOY

It's of a brisk young ploughboy, he was ploughing on the plain,
And his horses stood down in yonder shade.
It was down in yonder grove, he went whistling to his plough,
And by chance there he met a pretty maid, pretty maid,
And by chance there he met a pretty maid.

So the song that he sang as they walked along,
“Pretty maid, oh, you are of high degree.
If I should fall in love and your parents they should prove,
Oh, the next thing they would send me to the sea, to the sea,
And the next thing they would send me to the sea.”

So when her aged parents they came for to know
That her love he was ploughing on the plain,
They sent for the press gang and pressed her love away.
And they sent him to the wars to be slain, to be slain,
And they sent him to the wars to be slain.

So she dressed herself up all in that's her best
And her pockets had been well lined with gold.
You should see her trudge the streets with a tear all in her eye.
She was searching for her jolly sailor bold, sailor bold,
She was searching for her jolly sailor bold.

So the first that she met was a jolly sailor bold.
“Have you seen my pretty ploughing boy?” she cried.
“He's just across the deep and he's sailing for the fleet.”
And he said, “My pretty maid, will you ride, will you ride?”
And he said, “My pretty maid, will you ride?”

So she sailed until she came to the ship her love was in
And unto the Captain did complain.
She said, “I'm come in search for my pretty ploughing boy,
Who was sent to the wars to be slain, to be slain,
Who was sent to the wars to be slain.”

So five hundred bright guineas she then did lay down,
And so freely she told them all o'er,
Until she got her pretty ploughboy all in her arms,
And she hugged him till she got him safe on shore, safe on shore.
And she hugged him till she got him safe on shore.

She set those bells to ring and so sweetly she did sing,
Just because she'd saved the lad that she adore, she adore,
Just because she'd saved the lad that she adore.

3/3/2012 - 21:04




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