There was three kings went to the east,
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 stones.
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 all the land!
