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The LUCKIE PLOUGH-BOY.

HERE was a jolly plough boy

Was ploughing on the plain,

And his horses stood under a shade,

Low down in yonder grove.

He was whistling to his plough,

And his chance was to meet a pretty maid.

He finished his song,

As he walked along,

You’re a maid of a higher degree,

If l should fall in love,

And your parents come to know,

The next thing they would send me to the sea.

But when her parents

They came for to know,

The plough-boy was ploughing on the plain

A press-gang they sent,

That press’d my love away,

They sent him to the wars to be slain.

She then dressed herself

In very rich array,

And her pockets was lined with gold,

See how she treads the streets,

With tears in her eyes,

And she walks like a jolly sailor bold.