All among the barley

Chorus:
All among the barley,
who would not be blithe?
When the ripe and bearded barley
is smiling on the scythe.
I
Now is come September,
the hunter’s moon(1) begun,
And through the wheaten stubble
is heard the frequent gun.
The leaves are pale and yellow,
and kindling into red,
And the ripe and bearded barley
is hanging down its head.
II
The spring is like a young man
who does not know his mind.
The summer is a tyrant
of most ungracious kind.
The autumn’s like an old friend,
who loves one all she can,
And she brings the bearded barley
to glad the heart of man.
III
The wheat is like a rich man,
it’s sleek and well-to-do.
The oats are like a pack of girls,
laughing and dancing, too.
The rye is like a miser,
it’s sulky, lean and small,
And the ripe and bearded barley
is monarch(2) of them all.
IV (additional verse Tinkers Bag)
Now in comes Old Man Winter,
with frost and wind and rain
The snow upon the hanging bough,
and ice out in the lane.
And we around the fire sit,
while bitter winds do wail
And drink to old John Barleycorn(3),
his own good nut brown ale.
FOOTNOTES
1) In the Anglo-Saxon countries there is the habit of giving a name to every full moon of the month. Generally the full moon of September is called “harvest” (or full moon of wheat or barley) the one closest to the equinox. But here as in Italy too it is called the hunter’s moon. In America, on the other hand, the moon of the hunter or of the blood is the full moon of October.
2) beer and whiskey are made from the barley !!
3) the personification of the spirit of the wheat (see)

The song is mostly performed by choirs with arrangements for three or four voices, but there is no shortage of folk versions with vocals and instruments