1

'Tis of a jolly ploughing-man,
Was ploughing of his land,
He called, Ho! he called, Wo!
And bade his horses stand.
Upon his plough he sat, I trow,
And loud began to sing,
His voice rang out, so clear and stout,
It made the horse bells ring.
For a nutting we will go, my boys,
A nutting we will go,
From hazel bush, loud sings the thrush,
A nutting we will go!

2

A maiden sly was passing by
With basket on her arm,
She stood to hear his singing clear,
To listen was no harm.
The ploughboy stayed that pretty maid,
And clasped her middle small,
He kissed her twice, he kissed her thrice
Ere she could cry or call.
For a nutting &c.

3

Now all you pretty maidens that
Go nutting o'er the grass
Attend my rede, and give good heed,
Of ploughboys that you pass.
When lions roar, on Afric's shore,
No mortal ventures near,
When hoots the owl, and bears do growl,
The heart is full of fear.
For a nutting &c.

4

And yet, 'tis said, to pretty maid,
There is a graver thing,
In any clime, at any time,—
A ploughboy that doth sing.
So all you maidens, young and fair
Take lesson from my lay,
When you do hear a ploughman sing,
Then lightly run away.
For a nutting &c.