Just as the sun is rising, so we must rise and plough And tend and feed the plough team, that stands so still and proud Their backs as strong as iron, but their hearts are gentle and kind And yoke them to the ploughshare and leave the farm behind Turn, turn, the seasons turn The children sport and play But the ploughman's first to feel the wind And the sun at the break of day His hands are sore and callused, he keeps them straight in line His eye is sure and steady, his team well matched and fine The earth is hard and frosty, as a mist comes from the sea The open sky above him, with gulls for company Turn, turn, the seasons turn The children sport and play But the ploughman's first to feel the wind And the sun at the break of day And when the land lies ready, we'll scatter and we'll sow And with god's help and sunlight, the seeds shall surely grow And when the harvest's ended, we'll gather in the grain A bushel for the springtime, to sow the fields again Turn, turn, the seasons turn The children sport and play But the ploughman's first to feel the wind And the sun at the break of day And now the yoking's over, the long day's work is done The horses are but shadows in the waning of the sun The ploughman needs his sleep now, for his back is weary and sore And early he must rise again and to ploughing come once more Turn, turn, the seasons turn The children sport and play But the ploughman's first to feel the wind And the sun at the break of day The ploughman's first to feel the wind And the sun at the break of day