Time to sing the Barley Mow

The Barley Mow is a drinking game song from William Chappell's Popular Music of the Olden Time (1855-1859).
Fred Whiting sings The Barley Mow (Roud 10722)
Well we ploughed the land and we planted it, and we watched the barley grow.
We rolled it and we harrowed it and we cleaned it with a hoe.
Then we waited 'til the farmer said, “It's time for harvest now.
Get out your axes and sharpen, boys, it's time for barley mow.”
Chorus (after each verse):Well, here's luck to barley mow and the land that makes it grow.
We'll drink to old John Barleycorn, here's luck to barley mow.
So fill up all the glasses, lads, and stand them in a row:
A gill, a half a pint, a pint. a pint, and a quart and here's luck to barley mow.
Well we went and mowed the barley and we left it on the ground.
We left it in the sun and rain 'til it was nicely brown.
Then one day off to the maltsters, then John Barleycorn did go.
The day he went away, we all did say, “Here's luck to barley mow.”
Have no fear of old John Barleycorn when he's as green as grass.
But old John Barleycorn is strong enough to sit you on your arse.
But there's nothing better ever brewed than we are drinking now,
Fill them up: we'll have another round, here's good luck to barley mow.
Fred Whiting sings The Barley Mow (Roud 10722)
Well we ploughed the land and we planted it, and we watched the barley grow.
We rolled it and we harrowed it and we cleaned it with a hoe.
Then we waited 'til the farmer said, “It's time for harvest now.
Get out your axes and sharpen, boys, it's time for barley mow.”
Chorus (after each verse):Well, here's luck to barley mow and the land that makes it grow.
We'll drink to old John Barleycorn, here's luck to barley mow.
So fill up all the glasses, lads, and stand them in a row:
A gill, a half a pint, a pint. a pint, and a quart and here's luck to barley mow.
Well we went and mowed the barley and we left it on the ground.
We left it in the sun and rain 'til it was nicely brown.
Then one day off to the maltsters, then John Barleycorn did go.
The day he went away, we all did say, “Here's luck to barley mow.”
Have no fear of old John Barleycorn when he's as green as grass.
But old John Barleycorn is strong enough to sit you on your arse.
But there's nothing better ever brewed than we are drinking now,
Fill them up: we'll have another round, here's good luck to barley mow.