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As Johnny the ploughboy was walking along,
To fetch up his cattle so early in the morn,
He spied pretty Nancy among the green rushes,
Singing more sweet than the blackbirds & thrushes.
On yonder hills and lofty high mountains,
As the sheep were a'grazing on each day morning,
Bright Phebus did shine, & the hills were adorning,
As Molly fat milking on a fine summer's morning.
So now to conclude and end my ditty,
To all country lasses that are sweet and pretty,
Never forsake your own country employment,
No city can afford so sweet an enjoyment.
When rous’d by the trumpet’s loud clangor to arms,
Reluctant I quitted Eliza’s bright charms;
Tho' honour commanded, yet love fill’d my mind,
Ah! how could I leave the dear charmer behind?
Yet the rage of the battle with courage I try’d,
Surviv’d, while the heroes fell fast on each side;
Love stood my protector in all the alarms,
While the silver-ton’d trumpet still sounded to arms.
Now olive-rob’d Peace kind advances again,
And her blessings dispenses wide over the plain;
Return’d to Eliza, we join in the throng,
Where is heard the soft pipe, or the heart-lifting song.
Each rural amusement with rapture we try,
While the beams of contentment are found in each eye;
Love stood my protector in all the alarms,
While the silver-ton’d trumpets still sounded to arms.
What mortal like me so transcendently blest,
When clasp’d by my charmer with joy to her breast;
The laurels of conquest I give to the wind,
’Tis nought without love and honour combin’d;
