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JOHN BARLEYCORN.
BURNS.

‘Tarne were three kings into the cast,
‘Three kings both great and high ;

‘Ax’ they ha’e sworn a soleran oath
Jobn Barleycorn should die.

They took a plough and ploughed him down
Put clods upon his head ;

‘And they ha’e sworn a solemn oath
John Barleycorn was dead.

But the cheerful spring came kindly on,
‘And showers began to fall ;

John Barleycorn got up again,
And sore surprised them all.

The sultry suns of summer came,
‘And he grew thick and strong;

His head weel arm’d wi’ pointed spears,
‘That no one should him wrong,

‘The sober autumn enter’d mild,
‘When he grew wan and pale ;

‘His bending joints and drooping head
Show'd he began to fail.

Hig colour sicken’d more and more,
He faded into age;

And then his enemies began
‘To show their deadly rago.

‘They've ta'en a weapon long and sharp,
‘Radvcut him by oe bnee

‘Then tied him fast upon a cart,
Like a rogue for forgerie.