The poem
Chorus—O can ye labour lea, young man, O can ye labour lea? It fee nor bountith shall us twine Gin ye can labour lea.
I FEE’D a man at Michaelmas, Wi’ airle pennies three; But a’ the faut I had to him, He could na labour lea, O can ye labour lea, &c.
O clappin’s gude in Febarwar, An’ kissin’s sweet in May; But my delight’s the ploughman lad, That weel can labour lea, O can ye labour lea, &c.
O kissin is the key o’ luve, And clappin’ is the lock; An’ makin’ o’s the best thing yet, That e’er a young thing gat. O can ye labour lea, &c.