There's work for me to do;
Though you call me a 'swell,' I would labour well—
I'm aware it's not pure joy—
To plough and sow for PROTH-ER-O
And be a farmer's boy,
And be a farmer's boy."
The farmer quoth, "I be mortal loth,
But the farm 'tis goin' back,
And I do declare as I can't a-bear
Any farming hands to lack;