A man said to me at the fair -- If you have got a poet's tongue Tumble up and chant the air That the Stars of Morning sung: -- I'll pay you, if you sing it nice, A penny-piece. -- I answered flat, -- Sixpence is the proper price For a ballad such as that. -- But he stared and wagged his head, Growling as he passed along -- Sixpence! Why I'd see you dead Before I pay that for a song. -- I saw him buy three pints of stout With the sixpence -- dirty lout! |