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
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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
Lyrics: The Golden Glove, John Wesley Harding [end]