The Crow Sat On The Willow

The crow sat on the willow tree     A-lifting up his wings,     And glossy was his coat to see,     And loud the ploughman sings,     "I love my love because I know     The milkmaid she loves me";     And hoarsely croaked the glossy crow     Upon the willow tree.     "I love my love" the ploughman sung,     And all the fields with music rung.     "I love my love, a bonny lass,     She keeps her pails so bright,     And blythe she trips the dewy grass     At morning and at night.     A cotton dress her morning gown,     Her face was rosy health:     She traced the pastures up and down     And nature was her wealth."     He sung, and turned each furrow down,     His sweetheart's love in cotton gown.     "My love is young and handsome     As any in the town,     She's worth a ploughman's ransom     In the drab cotton gown."     He sang and turned his furrow oer     And urged his team along,     While on the willow as before     The old crow croaked his song:     The ploughman sung his rustic lay     And sung of Phoebe all the day.     The crow he was in love no doubt     And [so were] many things:     The ploughman finished many a bout,     And lustily he sings,     "My love she is a milking maid     With red rosy cheek;     Of cotton drab her gown was made,     I loved her many a week."     His milking maid the ploughman sung     Till all the fields around him rung.