[THE common editions of this popular song inform us that it is taken ‘from an Old Ballad,’ alluding probably to the dialogue given at page 44. This song is quoted by Farquhar.] A COUNTRY life is sweet! In moderate cold and heat, To walk in the air, how pleasant and fair! In every field of wheat, The fairest of flowers adorning the bowers, And every meadow’s brow; To that I say, no courtier may Compare with they who clothe in grey, And follow the useful plow. They rise with the morning lark, And labour till almost dark; Then folding their sheep, they hasten to sleep; While every pleasant park Next morning is ringing with birds that are singing, On each green, tender bough. With what content, and merriment, Their days are spent, whose minds are bent To follow the useful plow. The gallant that dresses fine, And drinks his bottles of wine, Were he to be tried, his feathers of pride, Which deck and adorn his back, Are tailors’ and mercers’, and other men dressers, For which they do dun them now. But Ralph and Will no compters fill For tailor’s bill, or garments still, But follow the useful plow. Their hundreds, without remorse, Some spend to keep dogs and horse, Who never would give, as long as they live, Not two-pence to help the poor; Their wives are neglected, and harlots respected; This grieves the nation now; But ’tis not so with us that go Where pleasures flow, to reap and mow, And follow the useful plow. THE FARMER’S SON. [THIS song, familiar to the dwellers in the dales of Yorkshire, was published in 1729, in the _Vocal Miscellany_; _a collection of about four hundred celebrated songs_. As the _Miscellany_ was merely an anthology of songs already well known, the date of this song must have been sometime anterior to 1729. It was republished in the _British Musical Miscellany_, _or the Delightful Grove_, 1796, and in a few other old song books. It was evidently founded on an old black-letter dialogue preserved in the Roxburgh collection, called _A Mad Kinde of Wooing_; _or_, _a Dialogue between Will the Simple and Nan the Subtill_, _with their loving argument_. To the tune of the New Dance at the Red Bull Playhouse. Printed by the assignees of Thomas Symcock.] ‘SWEET Nelly! my heart’s delight! Be loving, and do not slight The proffer I make, for modesty’s sake:— I honour your beauty bright. For love, I profess, I can do no less, Thou hast my favour won: And since I see your modesty, I pray agree, and fancy me, Though I’m but a farmer’s son.