[6]
There he did ly till Mid-ſummer,
till he turn'd pale and wan;
Then Sir John had gotten a beard,
and ſo became a man.
They hired men with ſcythes ſo ſharp,
to cut him by the knee,
And thus they us'd Sir Barleycorn,
by treating him bitterly.
They hired men with pitchforks ſtrong,
to prick him to the heart,
And like a thief for felony,
they bound him to a cart.
They hired men with crabſticks ſtrong,
to threſh his ſkin and bones,
But the miller us'd him ten times worſe,
he ground him 'tween two ſtones.
Put wine into a glaſs, Sir,
put claret into a can, Sir,
Put Barleycorn in a nut brown bowl,
he becomes a noble man, Sir.
The young Maid's praiſe of her Soldier.
LAte on an evening as I was walking,
pleaſant ſhady groves drew near,
There I heard a loving mother,
talking to her daughter dear:
Daughter, I would have you marry
if it be your true lover's will.
No mother dear, I'd rather tarry,
for my loving Soldier ſtill.
