There were three kings into the east,
Three kings both great and high;
And they hae sworn a solemn oath
John Barleycorn should die.
II.
They took a plough and plough’d him down,
Put clods upon his head;
And they ha’e sworn a solemn oath
John Barleycorn was dead.
III.
But the cheerful spring came kindly on,
And show’rs began to fall;
John Barleycorn got up again,
And sore surpris’d them all.
IV.
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.
V.
The sober autumn enter’d mild,
When he grew wan and pale;
His beading joints and drooping head
Show’d he began to fail.
VI.