CCCCLXXV.
Can you make me a cambric shirt,
Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme;
Without any seam or needlework?
And you shall be a true lover of mine.
Can you wash it in yonder well,
Parsley, &c.
Where never sprung water, nor rain ever fell?
And you, &c.
Can you dry it on yonder thorn,
Parsley, &c.
Which never bore blossom since Adam was born?
And you, &c.
Now you have ask'd me questions three,
Parsley, &c.
I hope you'll answer as many for me,
And you, &c.
Can you find me an acre of land,
Parsley, &c.
Between the salt water and the sea sand?
And you, &c.
Can you plough it with a ram's horn,
Parsley, &c.
And sow it all over with one pepper-corn?
And you, &c.
Can you reap it with a sickle of leather,
Parsley, &c.
And bind it up with a peacock's feather?
And you, &c.
When you have done and finish'd your work,
Parsley, &c.
Then come to me for your cambric shirt,
And you, &c.