All among the barley Who would not be blithe, oh so blithe? When the ripe and bearded barley is smiling On the side Now tis come September, the hunters moons begun And through the wheat and stubble tis heard a frequent gun The leaves are pale and yellow and turning into red And the ripe and bearded barley is hanging down its head All among the barley Who would not be blith? When the ripe and barded barley is smiling On the side The wheat is like a rich man, hes sleek and well to do The oats are like a pack of girls, laughing and dancing through The rye is like a miser, hes sucky, lean and small And the ripe and beaded barley is monarch of them all All among the barley Who would not be blithe? When the ripe and bearded barley is smiling On the side The spring is like a young maid who doesnt know her mind Summer is like a tyrant, the most egracious kind The autumn is an old friend who loves with all she can Cause she brings the bearded barley to ? the hearts of man All among the barley Who would not be blithe? When the ripe and bearded barley is smiling On the side Now tis come September, the hunters moons begun And through the wheat and stubble tis heard a frequent gun The leaves are pale and yellow and turning into red And the ripe and bearded barley is hanging down its head All among the barley Who would not be blithe? When the ripe and bearded barley is All among the barley Who would not be blithe? When the ripe and bearded barley is smiling On the side
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