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A pedlar without e’er a pack,
It makes him look wonderful blue;
A shepherd without e’er a flock,
Has little or nothing to do.
A farmer without any corn,
He neither can give sell nor lend;
And a huntsman without e’er a horn,
His wife she may stand his good friend.
A plowman without e’er a plow,
I think he may live a his ease;
And a diary without e’er a cow,
Will make but bad butter and cheese.
A warren without e’er a coney,
Is barren and so much the worse,
And he that is quite out of money,
He hath little need of a purse.
But as for our gardener laddies,
That pull the fair flowers in May!
And presents them to the ladies,
Which they wear in their bosom each day.
Their fragrant smell does delight you,
