There were three men came from the west
Their fortune for to try,
And these three men they did agree
John Barleycorn should die.
Fol the dol the diddi ay,
Fol the dol the diddi aygeewo
They ploughed him down a furrow deep
The drags went over his head;
They vowed and swore and did declare
John Barleycorn was dead.
Fol the dol the diddi ay,
Fol the dol the diddi aygeewo
And there he lay for a full fortnight
Till the dews from Heaven did fall,
When Barleycorn sprung up again
And that surprised them all.
Fol the dol the diddi ay,
Fol the dol the diddi aygeewo
And there he remained till midsummer day
And looked so pale and wan,
And then his beard began to grow
And he soon became a man.
Fol the dol the diddi ay,
Fol the dol the diddi aygeewo
They sent men with scythes so sharp,
To cut him off at knee,
And then poor John Barleycorn
They served him barbarously.
Fol the dol the diddi ay,
Fol the dol the diddi aygeewo
O Barleycorn is the choicest grain
That ever was sown on land;
It will do more than anything
By the turning of your hand.
Fol the dol the diddi ay,
Fol the dol the diddi aygeewo
Source : This version was sung by John Stafford, aged 58, at Bishop's Sutton,
Somerset, 27 August 1906. The earliest known copy of this song is in the form
of a black-letter broadside printed in the reign of James II. The singer (of
this version) told Cecil Sharp that he heard the song from some street-singers
as they passed through his village when he was a child.
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