A Poor Ploughman to a Gentleman for Whom He Had Taken a Little Pains
Your coulter cuts the soil that erst was sown;
Your harvest was fore-reaped long ago;
Your sickle shears the meadow that was mown
Ere you the toil of tillman's trade did know.
Good faith, you are beholding to the man
That so for you your husbandry began.
He craves of you no silver for his seed,
Ne doth demand a penny for his grain;
But if you stand at any time in need
(Good master), be as bold with him again.
You can not do a greater pleasure than
To choose you such a one to be your man.
Your harvest was fore-reaped long ago;
Your sickle shears the meadow that was mown
Ere you the toil of tillman's trade did know.
Good faith, you are beholding to the man
That so for you your husbandry began.
He craves of you no silver for his seed,
Ne doth demand a penny for his grain;
But if you stand at any time in need
(Good master), be as bold with him again.
You can not do a greater pleasure than
To choose you such a one to be your man.
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