When smoke stood up from Ludlow
When smoke stood up from Ludlow,And mist blew off from Teme,And blithe afield to ploughingAgainst the morning beamI strode beside my team,
The blackbird in the coppiceLooked out to see me stride,And hearkened as I whistledThe tramping team beside,And fluted and replied:
"Lie down, lie down, young yeoman;What use to rise and rise?Rise man a thousand morningsYet down at last he lies,And then the man is wise."
I heard the tune he sang me,And spied his yellow bill;I picked a stone and aimed itAnd threw it with a will:Then the bird was still.
Then my soul within meTook up the blackbird's strain,And still beside the horsesAlong the dewy laneIt Sang the song again:
"Lie down, lie down, young yeoman;The sun moves always west;The road one treads to labourWill lead one home to rest,And that will be the best."
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