DRESS DOES NOT MAKE THE MAN
1
My love is like the white thorn tree
When its leaves are blown away
His cheeks are red as haw berry
His dress is never gay
2
My love is like the Bramble bushes
Whose leaves lie on the ground
While hes sitting on the rushes
His looks have power to wound
3
His dress—that does not make the man
In one dress all the year
Wi coarse smock frock as brown as tan
He does at Church appear
4
I knew him when a Shepherd boy
His dress was hodden grey
But his plump cheeks of health and joy
Stole all my heart away—
