The Praise of a Countryman’s Life
John Chalkhill
Oh, the sweet contentment
The countryman doth find,
High trolollie, lollie, lol; high trolollie, lee;
That quiet contemplation
Possesseth all my mind:
Then care away, and wend along with me.
For courts are full of flattery,
As hath too oft been tried,
High trolollie, lollie, lol; high trolollie, lee;
The city full of wantonness,
And both are full of pride;
Then care away, and wend along with me.
But, oh! the honest countryman
Speaks truly from his heart,
High trolollie, lollie, lol; high trolollie, lee;
His pride is in his tillage,
His horses and his cart:
Then care away, and wend along with me.
Our clothing is good sheep-skins,
Grey russet for our wives,
High trolollie, lollie, lol; high trolollie, lee;
’Tis warmth and not gay clothing
That doth prolong our lives:
Then care away, and wend along with me.
The ploughman, though he labour hard,
Yet on the holy day,
High trolollie, lollie, lol; high trolollie, lee;
No emperor so merrily
Does pass his time away:
Then care away, and wend along with me.
To recompense our tillage
The heavens afford us showers,
High trolollie, lollie, lol; high trolollie, lee
And for our sweet refreshments
The earth affords us bowers;
Then care away, and wend along with me.
The cuckoo and the nightingale
Full merrily do sing,
High trolollie, lollie, lol; high trolollie, lee;
And with their pleasant roundelays
Bid welcome to the spring:
Then care away, and wend along with me.
This is not half the happiness
The countryman enjoys,
High trolollie, lollie, lol; high trolollie, lee;
Though others think they have as much,
Yet he that says so lies:
Then care away, and wend along with me.