What lack you, sir? What seek you? What will you buy?
Come hither to me, look what you can spy:
I have to sell of all things under the sky,
What lack you, my masters? Come hither to me.

I have to sell books, for men of divine,
And books of all laws, most pleasant and fine:
Of all arts and stories, as men will incline,
What lack you, gentleman? Come hither to me.

I have ink, paper, and pens, to load with a barge,
Inkhorns, and penners: fine, small, and large;
Primers and ABCs, and books of small charge,
What lack you, scholars? Come hither to me.

I have fine gowns, cloaks, jackets, and coats,
Fine jerkins, doublets, and hose without motes;
Fine daggers, and knives, bags, purses for groats,
What lack you, my friend? Come hither to me.

I have of all things plenty to furnish a house,
Racks for cheese, and traps for a mouse;
Fine pans for milk, and trim tubs for souse,
First cheap, and then buy. Come hither to me.

I have ladles, skimmers, andirons and spits,
Dripping pans, pot hooks, old cats and kits;
And pretty fine dogs, without fleas or nits,
What lack you, my friend? Come hither to me.

I have fine moulds for cooks, and fine cutting knives,
Axes for butchers, and fine glasses for wives;
Medicines for rats to shorten their lives,
What lack you? What buy you? Come hither to me.

I have rollingpins, battledores, washbowls, and broom,
Wild beasts and puppets, sent from beyond Rome;
Fine, gay, and strange garlands, for bride and for groom,
What lack you, fair maidens? Come hither to me.

I have ornaments, implements, fit for the church,
Fine rods for children, of willow and birch;
If I have not quick sale, I shall have a lurch,
What do you lack, sir? Come hither to me.