16 the poor man’s garden. 
The poor man has his gooseberries ; 
His currants white and red ; 
His apple and his damson tree, 
And a little strawberry-bed. 
A happy man he thinks himself, 
A man that’s passing well— 
To have some fruit for the children. 
And some besides to sell. 
Around the rich man’s trellissed bower 
Gay, costly creepers run ; 
The poor man has his scarlet-beans 
To screen him from the sun. 
And there before the little bench, 
O’ershadowed by the bower, 
Grow southern-wood and lemon-thyme, 
Sweet-pea and gilliflower; 
And pinks and clove-carnations. 
Rich-scented side by side; 
And at each end a holly-hock, 
With an edge of London-pride. 
And here comes the old grandmother. 
When her day’s work is done ; 
And here they bring the sickly babe 
To cheer it in the sun. 
