Ye Tailor
Ye Tailor on his lowly bench
He stitcheth all ye day.
From morn till night his needle plies
On clothes both grave and gay.
Ye greatcoat for ye village squire,
Ye judge’s smallclothes fine,
Ye trainband captain’s uniform
That doth with splendor shine.
Ye tailor works in great content,
He is a happy man,
No clothes are yet constructed
On ye Ready-fitted Plan.
