And ever shee singeth as I can guesse,
Will you buy any sand, any sand, mistress?
The broom-man maketh his living most sweet,
With carrying of broomes from street to street;
Who would desire a pleasanter thing,
Than all the day long to doe nothing but sing?
The chimney-sweeper all the long day,
He singeth and sweepeth the soote away;
Yet when he comes home altho’ he be weary,
With his sweet wife he maketh full merry.