Many a man hath gold to guard
And house to keep him warm,
And ale to drink and bread to eat
And strong and ready arm;
But many a man when time is come
To rest him from his labors
Hath not so rich a store as I
Who boast me of good neighbors.
There's many a lad would scale the hills
And sail the fickle ocean,
And touching keels at every quay
Live ever in commotion.
But what a man may buy with sweat
Or carve with hearty saber
He may not own so sure as I
Who have a jovial neighbor.
Oh, some would cram a granary
With oats and corn and barley,
And some would dance a round or two
With every fiddling Charlie.
I like the time when malt is ripe
And Jenny brings the tabors,
But mostly I like every day
Because I have good neighbors.
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