Here are ballads! who will buy?
Not on dainty shelves to lie,
But for pockets plain enough,
Honest homespun in the rough;
Fit for lord or labourer's hand,
Up in rocky Cumberland,
Fit for villager and squire,
Down in breezy Lincolnshire;
Food for all who bring a heart
Bent upon the nobler part,
And an eye to which the tear
Springs, while laughter ripples near.