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 Doubting, fearing, while his course he’s steering; Cottages appearing, as he’s nigh to drop; O ! how briskly then the way-worn traveller Treads the maizes t’ward the mountain’s top.

Though so melancholy day has pass’d by, 'Twould be folly now to think on’t more; Blythe and jolly he the cag holds fast by, As he’s sitting at the goat-herd’s door: Eating, quaffing—at past labours laughing—— Better far, by half, in spirits than before O! how merrily the rested traveller Seems, while sitting at the goat-herd’s door.

Teuchland I come, with my light wares all laden, To dear, happy England, in summer’s gay bloom; Then listen, fair lady and young pretty maiden, Oh buy of the wandering Bavarian a broom! Buy a broom ! buy a broom! Buy a broom ! buy a broom! O buy of the wandering Bavarian a broom!

To brush away insects that sometimes annoy you; You’ll find it quite handy to use night and day, And what better exercise, pray, can employ you, Than to sweep all vexatious intruders away. Buy a broom ! buy a broom! Buy a broom ! buy a broom! O buy of the wandering Bavarian a broom!