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JOHN BARLEYCORN: A BALLAD (Robert Burns) 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 bendin 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; They ty`d 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 turn`d him o`er and o`er. They filled up a darksome pit With water to the brim, They heav`d in John Barleycorn- There, let him sink or swim! They laid him upon the floor, To work him farther woe; And still, as signs of life appear`d, They toss`d him to and fro. They wasted o`er a scorching flame The marrow of his bones; But a miller us`d him worst of all, For he crush`d him between two atones. And they hae taen his very hero blood And drank it round and round; And still the more and more they drank, Their joy did more abound. John Barleycorn was a hero bold, Of noble enterprise; For if you do but taste his blood, `Twill make your courage rise. `Twill make a man forget his woe; `Twill heighten all his joy: `Twill make the widow`s heart to sing, Tho the tear were in her eye. Then let us toast John Barleycorn, Each man a glass in hand; And may his great posterity Ne`er fail in old Scotland! TUNE: Lull me beyond thee filename[ BARLEY1 ARB ===DOCUMENT BOUNDARY===
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