Crazy Jane (1)/My Friend and Pitcher

MY FRIEND AND PITCHER.

The wealthy fool, with gold in store,
⁠Will still desire to grow 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 and pitcher.

From morning sun I'd never grieve,
⁠To toil, a hedger or a ditcher,
If that when l come home at eve,
⁠I might enjoy my friend and pitcher.
⁠⁠My friend so rare, &c.

Tho' fortune ever shuns my door,
⁠I know not what can thus bewitch her.
With all my heart can I be poor,
⁠With my sweet girl, my friend and pitcher.

⁠⁠My friend so rare, &c.