Z 628 King Arthur V, 39 Your Hay it is Mow'd. [Italian translation]

COMUS

Your hay, it is mow'd and your corn is reap'd,

Your barns will be full and your hovels heap'd.

Come, boys, come,

Come, boys, come,

And merrily roar out our harvest home.

CHORUS OF PEASANTS

Harvest home,

Harvest home,

And merrily roar out our harvest home.

COMUS

We've cheated the parson, we'll cheat him again,

For why shou'd a blockhead have one in ten?

One in ten, one in ten,

For why shou'd a blockhead have one in ten?

PEASANTS

One in ten, one in ten,

For why shou'd a blockhead have one in ten?

COMUS

For prating so long, like a book-learn'd sot,

Till pudding and dumpling are burnt to the pot:

Burnt to pot, burnt to pot,

Till pudding and dumpling are burnt to pot.

PEASANTS

Burnt to pot, burnt to pot,

Till pudding and dumpling are burnt to the pot.

COMUS

We'll toss off our ale till we cannot stand;

And heigh for the honour of old England;

Old England, Old England,

And heigh for the honour of old England.

PEASANTS

Old England, Old England,

And heigh for the honour of old England.