And down by yonder meadow there runs a river clear,
See how the little fishes how they do sport and play
Causing many a lad and many a lass to go there a-making hay.Then in comes the scytheman that meadow to mow down,
With his old leathered bottle and the ale that runs so brown.
There’s many a stout and labouring man comes here his skill to try,
He works, he mows, he sweats and blows and the grass cuts very dry.Then in comes both Tom and Dick with their pitch-forks and their rakes
And likewise black-eyed Susan the hay all for to make.
There’s a sweet, sweet, sweet and a jug, jug, jug, how the harmless birds did sing,
From the morning till the evening as we were a-haymaking.It was just at one evening as the sun was a-going down,
We saw the jolly piper come a-strolling through the town.
There he pulled out his tapering pipes and he made the valley ring,
So we all put down our rakes and forks and left off haymaking.
We callèd for a dance and we trippèd it along,
We danced all round the haycocks till the rising of the sun.
When the sun did shine such a glorious light and the harmless birds did sing,
Each lad he took his lass in hand and went back to his haymaking.