Lay still my fond shepherd don't you rise yet.
It's a fine dewy morning and be - sides my love it is wet.
Oh let it be wet my love and ever so cold
I will rise my bright floro and a way to my fold.
Oh no my bright floro it is no such thing
It's a bright sun a-shining and the lark is on the wing.
--instrumental--
Oh the lark in the morning, she rises from her nest.
And she mounts in the air, with the dew on her breast.
And like a pretty plough boy she'll whistle and sing,
And at night she will return to her own nest again.
-instrumental-
When the plough boy has done all he's got for to do,
He'll trips down to the meadows where the grass is all cut down.
Oh the lark in the morning, she rises from her nest.
And she flies though the dawn, with the dew on her breast.
Like a pretty plough boy she'll whistle and sing,
And at night she will return to her own nest again.
Writer(s): Traditional, Donie Cassidy
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