Three Songs from the Lamp and the Bell: II

Beat me a crown of bluer metal;
Fret it with stones of a foreign style:
The heart grows weary after a little
Of what it loved for a little while.

Weave me a robe of richer fibre;
Pattern its web with a rare device.
Give away to the child of a neighbor
This gold gown I was glad in twice.

But buy me a singer to sing one song--
Song about nothing--song about sheep--
Over and over, all day long;