ploughman's life, the
as i was a-wand&# ae m in spring,
i heard a young ploughman sae sweetly to sing;
and as he was singin', thir words he did say,—
there's nae life like the ploughman's in the month o' sweet may.
the v'ro the m she'll rise frae her ,
and mount i' the air wi' the dew on her breast,
and wi' the merry ploughman she'll whistle and sing,
and at night she'll return to her back again.