Letras
Lay still my fond shepherd
And don't you rise yet
It's a fine dewy morning
And besides my love it is wet
O let it be wet my love
And never so cold
I will rise my fond floro
And away to my fold
O no my bright floro
It is no such thing
It's a bright sun a-shining
And the lark is on the wing
O the lark in the morning
She rises from her nest
And she mounts in the air
With the dew around her breast
And like the pretty ploughboy
She'll whistle and sing
And at night she will return
To her own nest again
When the ploughboy has done all
He's got for to do
He trips down to the meadows
Where the grass is all cut down
O the lark in the morning
She rises from her nest
And she climbs to the dawn
With the dew around her breast
And like the pretty ploughboy
She'll whistle and sing
And at night she will return
To her own nest again