The Country Lass

I am a brisk and bonny lass, that?s free from care and strife,
And sweetly does my hours pass, I love a country life,
At wake, or fair, I oft am there, where pleasure is to be seen,
Tho? poor I am contented and happy as a queen.

I rise in the morning my labour to pursue,
And with my yoke and milk-pails I tread the morning dew,
My cows I milk, and there I taste the sweets that nature yields,
The lark she soars to welcome me into the flowery fields.

And when the meadows they are mown, a part I then must take,
And with the other village maids I go to the hay to make;
Where friendship, love, and harmony, amongst us there is seen,
The swains invite the village maids to dance upon the green.

Then in the time of harvest how cheerfully we go,
Some with hooks and sickles, and some with scythes to mow:
And when the corn is safe from harm, we have not far to roam,
But we all await to celebrate and welcome harvest home.

In winter, when the cattle are fothered with straw,
The cock doth crow to wake me, my icy cream to thaw,
The western winds may whistle, and northern winds may blow,
Tis health and sweet contentment, the country lass doth know.

So in winter or in summer we?re never taught to grieve,
In time of need each other their neighbor will relieve,
So still I think a country life all others does surpass,
I sit me down contented, a happy country lass.

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