<i>‘'Tis no sin for a man to labour in his vocation.' -Falstaff
‘The night cometh, when no man can work.'</i>
What though the beauty I love and serve be cheap,
Ought you to take me for a beast or fool?
All things a man could wish are in her keep;
For her I turn swashbuckler in love's school.
When folk dropp in, I take my pot and stool
And fall to drinking with no more ado.
I fetch them bread, fruit, cheese, and water, too;
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem