It's of a brisk young ploughboy, he was ploughing on the plainAnd his horses stood down in yonder shadeIt was down in yonder grove he went whistling to his ploughAnd by chance there he met a pretty maid, pretty maidAnd by chance there he met a pretty maidAnd when her aged parents they both came for to knowThat her love he was ploughing on the plainThey sent for the press gang and sent her love awayAnd they sent him to the wars to be slain, to be slainAnd they sent him to the wars to be slainSo she sailed till she came to the very ship she thought her love lay inAnd unto the Captain she did complainShe says, "I'm come in search for my pretty ploughing boyWho was sent unto the wars to be slain, to be slainWho was sent unto the wars to be slain."So four hundred bright guineas with her hand she did lay downAnd so freely she told them out all o'erUntil she got her pretty ploughboy all in her armsAnd she hugged him till she got him safe on shore, safe on shoreAnd she hugged him till she got him safe on shoreAnd she set those bells to ring and so sweetly she did singJust because she saved the lad that she adored, she adoredJust because she saved the lad that she adored
