The Golden Glove Lyrics by John Wesley Harding

The Golden Glove Lyrics

    Oh it's of a young squire in tamworth we hear
    And he courted a nobleman's daughter so fair
    For to marry her it was his intent
    And the friends and relations had given their consent

    Now a date was appointed for their wedding day
    And the farmer he was appointed to give her away
    But as soon as the lady this farmer did spy
    Her heart was inflamed and bitterly she did cry

    And she turned from the squire but nothing she said
    But instead of getting married she took to her bed
    And the thoughts of the farmer so ran in her mind
    A way for to have him she quickly did find

    Coat waistcoat and trousers the young girl put on
    And away she went a-hunting with her dog and her gun
    And she hunted around where the farmer he did dwell
    Because in her heart oh she loved him so well

    And she oftentimes fired but nothing she killed
    Until this young farmer came into the field
    And to talk with him it was her intent
    With her dog and her gun then to meet him she went

    Oh i thought you would be at the wedding she cried
    To wait on the squire and to give him his bride
    Oh no said the farmer i'll take a sword in my hand
    By honor i'd gain her whenever she command

    And the lady was pleased when she heard him so bold
    And she gave him a glove that was made out of gold
    And she told him that she found it (as?) she was coming along
    As she went out a-hunting with her dog and her gun

    And this lady went home with a heart full of love
    And she gave out a notice that she'd lost her glove
    And whoever found it and he brings it to me
    Whoever he is then my husband shall be

    The farmer he was pleased when he heard of the news
    And with a heart full of love to the lady he goes
    Oh lady oh lady i've picked up your glove
    And i hope that you'll be pleased for to grant me some love

    Oh it's already granted (and?) i will be your bride
    For i love the sweet breath of the farmer she cried
    I'll be mistress of your dairy and i'll milk all your cows
    While me jolly old farmer goes whistling on his plow

    And its when they got married and they told of the fun
    How she'd gone out a-hunting with her dog and her gun

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