I sit like a king in my lordly tower,
and all that I see is mine,
I reign supreme and I wield a power
by virute of right devine,
I look around and on every side
as far as the eye can see,
On the fields and the wood and the pastures wide
they all belong to me.
The farmer ploughs and the farmer sows
he toils with care and pain,
'Tis for me he ploughs and reaps and sows
and gathers the golden grain,
The Miner digs in the darksome caves where
the sun does never shine,
Though they work and toil like gally slaves
yet the work of their toil is mine.
I gather the gold from every source
I take a toll from all,
I spend it all on myselfe of course
with revile riot and ball,
I eat the fat and drink the sweet
I neither toil nor spin,
I pass the time with companions
and even the rent comes in.
The farmer ploughs and the farmer sows
he toils with care and pain,
'Tis for me he ploughs and reaps and sows
and gathers the golden grain,
The Miner digs in the darksome caves where
the sun does never shine,
Though they work and toil like gally slaves
yet the work of their toil is mine.
Markets may rise and prices may fall
and men may be discontent,
Though rain should overwhelm them all
still I must have my rent,
For I make the laws that hedge me around
that none may my rights assail,
And I've built them up with a skill profound
and a cunning that I just prevail.
The farmer ploughs and the farmer sows
he toils with care and pain,
'Tis for me he ploughs and reaps and sows
and gathers the golden grain,
The Miner digs in the darksome caves where
the sun does never shine,
Though they work and toil like gally slaves
yet the work of their toil is mine.
So I site like a king in my lordly tower and
I reign supreme alone,
And I wield a more despotic power than
the monarch on the throne.
and all that I see is mine,
I reign supreme and I wield a power
by virute of right devine,
I look around and on every side
as far as the eye can see,
On the fields and the wood and the pastures wide
they all belong to me.
The farmer ploughs and the farmer sows
he toils with care and pain,
'Tis for me he ploughs and reaps and sows
and gathers the golden grain,
The Miner digs in the darksome caves where
the sun does never shine,
Though they work and toil like gally slaves
yet the work of their toil is mine.
I gather the gold from every source
I take a toll from all,
I spend it all on myselfe of course
with revile riot and ball,
I eat the fat and drink the sweet
I neither toil nor spin,
I pass the time with companions
and even the rent comes in.
The farmer ploughs and the farmer sows
he toils with care and pain,
'Tis for me he ploughs and reaps and sows
and gathers the golden grain,
The Miner digs in the darksome caves where
the sun does never shine,
Though they work and toil like gally slaves
yet the work of their toil is mine.
Markets may rise and prices may fall
and men may be discontent,
Though rain should overwhelm them all
still I must have my rent,
For I make the laws that hedge me around
that none may my rights assail,
And I've built them up with a skill profound
and a cunning that I just prevail.
The farmer ploughs and the farmer sows
he toils with care and pain,
'Tis for me he ploughs and reaps and sows
and gathers the golden grain,
The Miner digs in the darksome caves where
the sun does never shine,
Though they work and toil like gally slaves
yet the work of their toil is mine.
So I site like a king in my lordly tower and
I reign supreme alone,
And I wield a more despotic power than
the monarch on the throne.
Contributed by Bernart Bartleby - 2016/1/15 - 10:58
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Una ballata ottocentesca presente nella collezione Harding (Harding B 11 – 1436 - V15174) delle Bodleian Libraries dell’Università di Oxford.
In realtà del presunto autore sono note le iniziali e anche il titolo di un’altra sua creazione (che non credo sia pervenuta): “W.W., author of the Miller's Moan”
Testo trovato su Protest Song Lyrics, come ripreso da Broadside Ballads Online