Fairfa' the lasses (1)/The Friend and Pitcher

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.