john barleycorn: a ballad

  there was three kings into the east,

  three kings both great and high,

  and they hae sworn a solemn oath

  john barleycorn should die.

  they took a plough and plough'd him down,

  put clods upon his head,

  and they hae sworn a solemn oath

  john barleycorn was dead.

  but the cheerful spring came kindly on,

  and show'rs began to fall;

  john barleycorn got up again,

  and sore surpris'd them all.

  the sultry suns of summer came,

  and he grew thick and strong;

  his head weel arm'd wi' pointed spears,

  that no one should him wrong.

  the sober autumn enter'd mild,

  when he grew wan and pale;

  his bending joints and drooping head

  show'd he began to fail.

  his colour sicken'd more and more,

  he faded into age;

  and then his enemies began

  to show their deadly rage.

  they've taen a weapon, long and sharp,

  and cut him by the knee;

  then tied him fast upon a cart,

  like a rogue for forgerie.

  they laid him down upon his back,

  and cudgell'd him full sore;

  they hung him up before the storm,

  and turned him o'er and o'er.

  they filled up a darksome pit

  with water to the brim;

  they heaved in john barleycorn,

  there let him sink or swim.

  they laid him out upon the floor,

  to work him farther woe;

  and still, as signs of life appear'd,

  they toss�