John Barleycorn: A Ballad(2/4)
#039; pointed spears,
that no one should him wrong.
the sober autumer'd mild,
when he grew ale;
his bending joints and drooping head
show'd he began to fail.
his colour si'd more and more,
he faded into age;
and then his enemies began
to show their deadly rage.
they've taen a on, long and sharp,
and cut him by the knee;
then tied him fast upon a cart,
like a rogue for ferie.
they id him down upon his back,
and cudgell'd him full sore;
they hung him up before
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