When first my way to fair I took
Few pence in purse had I,
And long I used to stand and look
At things I could not buy.
Now times are altered: if I care
To buy a thing, I can;
The pence are here and here’s the fair,
But where’s the lost young man?
— To think that two and two are four
And neither five nor three
The heart of man has long been sore
And long ’tis like to be.