6
A man that has got a bad stomach,
Will make but a pitiful dinner;
And he that’s no victuals to eat,
His jaws will grow thinner and thinner.
You know that a dish of good meat
Is the comfort and joy of man’s life;
But he that’s no victuals to eat,
Has no need to draw out his knife.
A ploughman without e’er a plough,
I think he may live at his ease;
And a dairy without e’er a cow,
Will make but bad butter and cheese.
A man that is pitiful poor,
Has little or nothing to lose;
And he that has got ne’er a foot,
It saves him the buying of shoes.
A woman that never bore children,
Is barren, and so much the worse;
And he that is quite out of money,
Can have no need of a purse.
I hope there’s no one in this place,
Displeas’d any way with my song;
Come, buy up my ballads apace,
