| lyric | 1. Fine knacks for ladies, cheap, choice, brave and new;
good pennyworths, but money cannot move.
I keep a fair but for the fair to view;
a beggar may be liberal of love.
Though all my wares be trash, the heart ist true.
2. Great gifts are guiles and look for gifts again;
my trifles come as treasures from my mind.
It is a precious jewel to be plain;
sometimes in shell th’orient pearls we find;
of others take a sheaf, of me a grain,
5. Within this pack pins, points, laces and gloves,
and divers toys fitting a country fair;
but my heart lives where duty serves and loves,
turtles and twins, court's brood, a heav’nly pair.
Happy the heart that thinks of no removes. |