THE FRIEND AND PITCHER.
The wealthy fool with gold in store,
Will still desire to grow the richer;
Give me but these, I ask no more;
My charming girl, my friend and pitcher.
My friend so rare, my girl so fair,
With such what mortal can be richer;
Give me but these, a fig for care,
With my sweet girl, my friend & pitcher.
From morning sun I'd never grieve
To toil. a hedger or a ditcher,
If that, when I came home at eve,
I might enjoy my friend and pitcher.
My friend so rare, &c.
Though Fortune ever shuns my door,
(I know not what can thus bewitch her),
With all my heart can I be poor,
With any'sweet girl, my friend and pitcher.
My friend so rare, &c.
This work was published before January 1, 1929, and is in the public domain worldwide because the author died at least 100 years ago.
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