There were three farmers in the north, as they were passing by

they swore an oath so mighty oh that Barleycorn should die

one of them said: drown him and the other sad: hang him high

for whoever will stick to Barleycorn a-begging he will die



they put poor Barley into a sack an a cold an rainy day

and took him out to cornfields and buried him in the clay

frost and snow began to melt and dew began to fall

when Barleygrain put up his head and he soon surprised them all



being in the summer season and the harvest coming on

it‘s the time he stands up in the field with a beard like any man

„the reaper then came with his sickle and used me barberously

he cut me in the middle so small and he cut me above the knee



the next came was the binder and he looked at me with a frown

for in the middle there was a thistle which pulled his courage down

the farmer came with his pitch fork and he pierced me to the heart

like a thief, a rogue or a highwayman they tied me to the cart



the thresher came with his big flail and soon he broke my bones

could grieve the heart of any man to hear my sighs and moans

the next thing that they‘ve done to me they steeped me in the well

they left me there for a day and night until I began to swell



and next thing that they‘ve done to me they dried me in a kiln

they used me ten times worse, than that they ground me in the mill

they used me in the kichen, they used me in the hall

oh they used me in the parlour among the ladies all



the Barleygrain is a comical grain, it makes men sigh and moan

for when they drink a glass or two they forget their wives and home

the drunkard is a dirty man, he used me worst of all

he drank me up in his dirty mouth an he tumbled against the wall“