As I am going to St. Ives,
I meet a man who basket weaves;
when I see him he always waves;
he has a beard, he never shaves;
he keeps some bees, in pretty hives;
he Winters them well, the hive survives;
I met him once again today,
we stopped and spoke, had much to say;
but, we seem to have quite different lives;
I am just a traveller upon the road,
he lives a life and his fame it thrives.
That man I see when I go to St. Ives.
PS St. Ives near Liskeard (of which I speak above) is pronounced St. Eves. #JustSaying