The Farmers Boy - Early Years

The Farmer's Boy

This very popular and widely known folksong, ‘The Farmers Boy’ has been imprinted in my memory banks since I first sang it at Junior School.

The song was first published in 1832, when it was included in a collection of Broadside Ballads, with the title ‘The Lucky Farmers Boy’. When it appeared in the first edition of 'Ancient Poems, Ballads and Songs of the Peasantry of England’ by James Henry Dixon, published by the Percy Society in 1846, the Lucky’ of the title had been dropped. A revised enlarged second edition of the book, edited by Robert Bell was published in 1857. Frank Kidson in Traditional Tunes 1891, states:
“Even now the popularity of the Farmers Boy is great amongst country singers.”

Albert Richardson, 'The Singing Sexton' and handbell ringer of Burwash, East Sussex recorded The Farmers Boy on the Zonophone record label in 1932.

The Farmer's Boy

The sun had set behind the hills,
Across yon dreary moor.
When tired and lame a boy there
Came up to a farmer’s door;
“Can you tell me if one there be
Who will find me employ.
To plough and sow and reap and mow
And be a farmer’s boy, and be a farmer’s boy.”

“My father’s dead my mother’s left
With her five children small.
Her lot is hard so here Iam,
I’m the oldest of them all;
Though little I am, I fear no work
If you will me employ,
To plough and sow and reap and mow
And be a farmer’s boy, and be a farmer’s boy.

“And if you can not me employ,
One favor I’ve to ask:
Please shelter me till break of day
From this cold chilling blast?
At break of day. I’ll trudge away,
Elsewhere to seek employ,
To plough and sow and reap and mow
And be a farmer’s boy, and be a farmer’s boy.”

“Come try the lad,” the mistress said,
“Let him no longer seek.”
“O, yes , dear father,” the daughter cried,
While a tear ran down her cheek;
For those who’d work ‘tis hard to want
And wander for employ;
Don’t let him go, but let him stay,
And be a farmer’s boy, and be a farmer’s boy.”

And when the lad became a man,
The good old farmer died,
And left the lad the farm he had,
And his daughter for his bride;
The lad that was, the farm now is,
And he often smiles with joy,
And blesses the day, he came that way
To be a farmer’s boy, to be a farmer’s boy.
To be a farmer’s boy, to be a farmer’s boy.

About Mick

Mick Haywood is a traditional folk singer & folk song collector who has run and organised folk clubs and festivals for many years. He now lives in Whitby, North Yorkshire.

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Early Years

The Farmer's Boy

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