[Verse 1]
Come out, 'tis now September, the hunter moon's begun
And through the wheaten stubble, well, is heard the frequent gun
The fields are pale and yellow, and kindling into red
While the ripe and bearded barley is hanging down its head

[Chorus]
All among the barley, who would not be blithe
When the ripe and bearded barley is smiling on the scythe?

[Verse 2]
Oh, the spring is like a young girl who does not know her mind
The summer is a tyrant, well, of most ungracious kind
The autumn is an old friend that loves you all she can
And brings the bearded barley to glad the heart and hand

[Chorus]
All among the barley, who would not be blithe
When the ripe and bearded barley is smiling on the scythe?

[Verse 3]
Oh, the wheat is like a rich man, he's plump and well-to-do
The oats are like a pack of girls, they're laughin' and dancin' too
The rye is like a miser: sulky, lean, and tall
The ripe and bearded barley is monarch of them all
[Chorus]
All among the barley, who would not be blithe
When the ripe and bearded barley is smiling on the scythe?

[Instrumental break]

[Verse 4]
So, come out, 'tis now September, the hunter moon's begun
And through the wheaten stubble, well, is heard the frequent gun
The fields are pale and yellow, kindling into red
And the ripe and bearded barley is hanging down its head

[Chorus]
All among the barley, who would not be blithe
When the ripe and bearded barley is smiling on the scythe?

[Verse 5]
Oh, the spring is like a young girl who does not know her mind
The summer is a tyrant, well, the most ungracious kind
The autumn is an old friend that loves you all she can
And brings the bearded barley to glad the heart and hand

[Chorus]
All among the barley, who would not be blithe
When the ripe and bearded barley is smiling on the scythe?
[Verse 6]
Oh, the wheat is like a rich man, he's pomp and well-to-do
The oats are like a pack of girls, they're laughin' and dancin' too
The rye is like a miser: sulky, lean, and tall
The ripe and bearded barley is monarch of them all

[Chorus]
All among the barley, who would not be blithe
When the ripe and bearded barley is smiling on the scythe?
All among the barley, who would not be blithe
When the ripe and bearded barley is smiling on the scythe?
All among the barley, who would not be blithe
When the ripe and bearded barley is smiling on the scythe?
All among the barley, who would not be blithe
When the ripe and bearded barley is smiling on the scythe?