Poem 18

Man alive, what a belly you've got!

You'll take all the serge in my little shop.

Stand still for a minute, now, and I'll get your waist.

Man alive, what a belly you've got!

Oh, I know it's only a striker's pay you get,

But don't misunderstand me, Hywel bach;

I depend for my bread on working men

And I am only a working man myself

Just Shinkin rees the little tailor,

Proud of my work and the people I serve;

And I wouldn't deny you a suit for all the gold in all the world.

Just pay me a little each week, Hywel bach,

And I am your tailor as long as you live,

Shinkin Rees your friend and your tailor,

Proud to serve you, and your dear old father before you.

But man alive, what a belly you've got!