Eliza Carthy - Pretty Ploughboy

It's of a brisk young ploughboy, he was ploughing on the plain,
And his horses stood down in yonder shade.
It was down in yonder grove he went whistling to his plough,
And by chance there he met a pretty maid, pretty maid,
And by chance there he met a pretty maid.

And when her aged parents they both came for to know
That her love he was ploughing on the plain,
They sent for the press gang and sent her love away,
And they sent him to the wars to be slain, to be slain,
And they sent him to the wars to be slain.

So she sailed till she came to the very ship she thought her love lay in
And unto the Captain she did complain.
She says, “I'm come in search for my pretty ploughing boy,
Who was sent unto the wars to be slain, to be slain,
Who was sent unto the wars to be slain.”

So four hundred bright guineas with her hand she did lay down,
And so freely she told them out all o'er,
Until she got her pretty ploughboy all in her arms,
And she hugged him till she got him safe on shore, safe on shore.
And she hugged him till she got him safe on shore.

And she set those bells to ring and so sweetly she did sing,
Just because she saved the lad that she adored, she adored,
Just because she saved the lad that she adored.