Explore "The Ploughman's Life" by Robert Burns on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
As I was a-wand'ring ae morning in spring, / I heard a young ploughman sae sweetly to sing; / And as he was singin', thir words he did say,- / There's nae life like the ploughman's in the month o' sweet May.
The lav'rock in the morning she'll rise frae her nest, / And mount i' the air wi' the dew on her breast, / And wi' the merry ploughman she'll whistle and sing, / And at night she'll return to her nest back again.
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