Carolina Oliphant, Lady Nairne (1766–1845)

THERE’S high and low, there’s rich and poor,

There’s trades and crafts eneuch, man;

But, east and west, his trade’s the best

That kens to guide the pleugh, man.

Then come, weel speed my pleughman lad,

And hey my merry pleughman:

Of a’ the trades that I do ken,

Commend me to the pleughman!

His dreams are sweet upon his bed,

His cares are light and few, man;

His mother’s blessing’s on his head,

That tents her weel—the pleughman.

The lark sae sweet, that starts to meet

The morning fresh and new, man—

Blithe though she be, as blithe is he,

That sings as sweet—the pleughman.

All fresh and gay, at dawn of day,

Their labours they renew, man;

Heaven bless the seed, and bless the soil,

And Heaven bless the pleughman!