I WILL GO WITH MY FATHER A-PLOUGHING

I will go with my father a-ploughing To the green field by the sea, And the rooks and the crows and the seagulls Will come flocking after me. I will sing to the patient horses With the lark in the white of the air, And my father will sing the plough-song That blesses the cleaving share. I will go with my father a-sowing To the red field by the sea, And the rooks and the gulls and the starlings Will come flocking after me. I will sing to the striding sowers With the finch on the greening sloe, And my father will sing the seed-song That only the wise men know. I will go with my father a-reaping To the brown field by the sea, And the geese and the crows and the children Will come flocking after me. I will sing to the tanfaced reapers With the wren in the heat of the sun, And my father will sing the scythe-song That joys for the harvest done.