Penny for the Ploughboys

Colin Cater penned Penny for the Ploughboys for the visits by the ploughboys and the Molly dancers at the turn of the year, as the fields were prepared for the new crops. His 2009 book, also titled with the seasonal cry A Penny for the Ploughboys, contains many of his songs and relates his own story as the old ways of the English countryside became a focus for his own music.


At the end of the year all the fields were brown in the days when I was young
With corn in the barns, frost in the ground, and never a green shoot sprung
Then the ploughmen came with their hobnailed boots and the Molly Dance rich and slow
And with magical plays and songs of the land they bade the corn to grow

     Chorus:
     Only once a year, Penny for the Ploughboys
     To keep us in good cheer, multiply the gran
     Only once a year, Penny for the Ploughboys
     To speed the plough until the year turns round again

Well, the wind did blow and the sun did shine and the rain from heaven did fall
Then little Sir John sprung up his head and he soon grew amazing tall
When the corn was ripe, the harvesters came and the barns and the breweries rang
And when all was safely gathered in they raised their voice and sang.
     Chorus

Ah, now the seasons are all changed around, a slave to the great machines
The fields are ploughed in the high summer time, by the turn of the year they’re green
Gone are the trades, the horses, the families that followed the seasons along
And the old pubs close because they can’t resound to the fiddle or the country song
     Chorus

Ah, but there’s strength in the plays, the dances and songs that have lasted a thousand years
There’s strength in the hops and barley malt brewed into a country beer
It puts a spring in the step of an old straw bear, makes the dancer leap for the sky
When the Molly gangs come to speed the plough they raise their glass and cry
     Chorus

At the end of the year all the fields were brown in the days when I was young
With corn in the barns, frost in the ground, and never a green shoot sprung
Then the ploughmen came with their hobnailed boots and the Molly Dance rich and slow
And with magical plays and songs of the land they bade the corn to grow


© Golden Hind Music