From The bacchanalian magazine; and Cyprian enchantress, pp24-5, 1793.

listen to the tune (midi file)

THE NATURAL PLOUGH---A New Song.

Tune--And old Woman cloth'd in grey.

 Of all the professions in life,
 Sure ploughing and sowing's the chief;
 'Tis perform'd both in peace and in strife,
 By so many 'twould stagger belief:
 It is not alone by the clown,
 That the Plough, which I hint at, is us'd,
 For with Kings does the practice go down,
 And Queens are with 'sewing' amus'd.
 Chorus--Tol de rol, &c.
 
 What a field for these sports is display'd,
 In the source of each beautiful trait!
 To our hands are the 'furrows' all made,
 And the 'ploughs' did Dame Nature create;
 The 'lands' seem to ask for their feed,
 And Love their demands will allow,
 Which, by Fortune and Fate, were decreed
 To be plough'd by the Natural Plough.
 	Tol de rol, &c.
 
 Each nymph to the 'work' see invite,
 In the beauty and bloom of her days,
 Their 'fields' they abound in delight,
 Which all your 'industry' repays;
 No season your 'work' can retard, 
 But does all times 'fruition' allow,
 And if you'd preserve their regard--
 'Drive' away with the Natural Plough.
 	Tol de rol, &c.
 
 Ne'er thin, like an idler, to stop,
 You ne'er need to 'fallow' the 'ground',
 You may every year have a 'crop',
 In you 'seed' falls but clean in the 'pound';
 Then by 'ploughing' and 'sowing' your care,
 Good premiums the Fair do allow,
 If you rid them of sorrow and care, 
 By 'driving' the Natural Plough.
 	Tol de rol, &c.
 
 But still shun another man's 'ground';
 'Tis often encumber'd with thorns,
 And tho' barren to you it be found,
 For him it will surely bear 'horns':
 And, besides, if you're catch'd in his 'trap',
 The Law no excuse will allow,
 But ease you of some of your 'sap',
 For 'driving' the Natural Plough.
 	Tol de rol, &c.