I like to rise when the sun she rises Early in the morning And I like to hear them small birds singing Merrily upon their layland And hurrah for the life of a country boy And to ramble in the new-mown hay In spring we sow, at the harvest mow And that is how the seasons round they go Oh but of all the times choose I may 'Twould be rambling in the new-mown hay I like to rise when the sun she rises Early in the morning And I like to hear them small birds singing Merrily upon their layland And hurrah for the life of a country boy And to ramble in the new-mown hay In winter when the sky turns grey We hedge and we ditch our lives away But in the summer when the sun shines gay We go rambling in the new-mown hay I like to rise when the sun she rises Early in the morning And I like to hear them small birds singing Merrily upon their layland And hurrah for the life of a country boy And to ramble in the new-mown hay