Fine knacks for ladies, cheap, choice, brave and new,
Good pennyworths—but money cannot move;
I keep a fair, but for the fair to view,
A beggar may be liberal of love.
Though all my wares be trash, the heart is true,
The heart is true.
Great gifts are guiles and look for gifts again;
My trifles come as treasures from my mind.
It is a precious jewel to be plain;
Sometimes in shell the orient’s pearl we find.
Of others take a sheaf, of me a grain;
Of me a grain.
Within this pack pins, points, laces, and gloves,
And divers toys fitting a country fair;
But in my heart, where duty serves and loves,
Turtles and twins, court’s brood, a heavenly pair.
Happy the heart that thinks of no removes,
Of no removes.