Like a gay ploughboy.
Says the mother to the daughter, “You seem to love him well—
It seems as if your tender breast all on his head could dwell;
Young lads they are so rakish, young maids they do decoy,
And some day we’ll see you on the knee of a gay ploughboy.”
Of a gay ploughboy.
“Oh, no, oh no,” said Jenny, “he’s just the lad for me;
With him I could live happy, his heart’s so gay and free,
And he does rise so early to lead his team with joy,
And he bravely does his duty, like a gay ploughboy.”