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'Twas in the month of Michaelmas,

     When leaves were turning gold,

I first beheld my own true love

     So comely to behold.

 

With figure slim and auburn locks,

     Sweet smile and winning charms,

Well, before I knew which way to turn,

      I held her in my arms.

 

Winter came with stealth and guile

     And I, now feeling bold,

Wrapped my arms around her tight,

     To shield her from the cold.

 

The spring arrived and bells rang out

     As up the aisle I went.

Whilst she had planned our wedding day,

     My money all was spent.

 

In summer days, and harvest-time

     My love had put on weight.

And shortly after Michaelmas

     Came the appointed date.

 

In the season of true fruitfulness

      I then saw what I'd done

For as the leaves fell, we were three

     And now I had a son.

 

The following year another came:

     Our time was not our own.

It was amazing how our family,

     Since Michaelmas, had grown.

 

So, beware you lusty farmer boys

     Who stack the summer grain:

My story has a warning note,

     That should be very plain.

 

If sleepless nights and nappies

     Are both things that you abhor.

When Michaelmas approaches you,

     Make sure you lock your door.

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