No 14 SIR JOHN BARLEYCORN

1 There came three men from out the West Their victory to try; And they have ta'en a solemn oath, Poor Barleycorn should die. With a Ri-fol-lol-riddle-diddle-dol Ri fol, ri fol dee. 2 They took a plough and ploughed him in, Clods harrowed on his head; And then they took a solemn oath John Barleycorn was dead. With a Ri-fol &c. 3 There he lay sleeping in the ground Till rain did on him fall; Then Barleycorn sprung up his head, And so amazed them all. With a Ri-fol &c. 4 There he remained till Midsummer And look'd both pale and wan; Then Barleycorn he got a beard And so became a man. With a Ri-fol &c. 5 Then they sent men with scythes so sharp To cut him off at knee; And then poor Johnny Barleycorn They served most barbarouslie. With a Ri-fol &c. 6 Then they sent men with pitch forks strong To pierce him through the heart; And like a doleful Tragedy They bound him in a cart. With a Ri-fol &c. 7 And then they brought him to a barn A prisoner to endure; And so they fetched him out again, And laid him on the floor. With a Ri-fol &c. 8 Then they set men with holly clubs, To beat the flesh from th' bones; But the miller served him worse than that He ground him 'twixt two stones. With a Ri-fol &c. 9 O! Barleycorn is the choicest grain That 'ere was sown on land It will do more than any grain, By the turning of your hand. With a Ri-fol &c. 10 It will make a boy into a man, A man into an ass; To silver it will change your gold, Your silver into brass. With a Ri-fol &c. 11 It will make the huntsman hunt the fox, That never wound a horn; It will bring the tinker to the stocks That people may him scorn. With a Ri-fol &c. 12 O! Barleycorn is th' choicest grain, That e'er was sown on land. And it will cause a man to drink Till he neither can go nor stand. With a Ri-fol &c.