Oh, where did hunter win
So delicate a skin
For her feet?
You lucky read more

Oh, where did hunter win
So delicate a skin
For her feet?
You lucky little kid,
You perished, so you did,
For my sweet.

The wearer knowes, where the shoe wrings.
[The wearer knows best where the shoe pinches.]

The wearer knowes, where the shoe wrings.
[The wearer knows best where the shoe pinches.]

Him that makes shoes go barefoot himself.

Him that makes shoes go barefoot himself.

I was not made of common calf,
Nor ever meant for country loon;
If with an axe read more

I was not made of common calf,
Nor ever meant for country loon;
If with an axe I seem cut out,
The workman was no cobbling clown;
A good jack boot with double sole he made,
To roam the woods, or through the rivers wade.

When we see a man with bad shoes, we say it is no wonder, if he
is a shoemaker.
read more

When we see a man with bad shoes, we say it is no wonder, if he
is a shoemaker.
[Fr., Quand nous veoyons un homme mal chausse, nous disons que ce
n'est pas merveille, s'il est chausstier.]

Hans Grovendraad, an honest clown,
By cobbling in his native town,
Had earned a living ever.
read more

Hans Grovendraad, an honest clown,
By cobbling in his native town,
Had earned a living ever.
His work was strong and clean and fine,
And none who served at Crispin's shrine
Was at his trade more clever.

The fairy stitching gleams
On the sides and in the seams,
And it shows
read more

The fairy stitching gleams
On the sides and in the seams,
And it shows
That Pixies were the wags
Who tipped these funny tags
And these toes.

Let firm, well hammer'd soles protect thy feet
Through freezing snows, and rains, and soaking sleet;
Should read more

Let firm, well hammer'd soles protect thy feet
Through freezing snows, and rains, and soaking sleet;
Should the big last extend the shoe too wide,
Each stone will wrench the unwary step aside;
The sudden turn may stretch the swelling vein,
The cracking joint unhinge, or ankle sprain;
And when too short the modish shoes are worn,
You'll judge the seasons by your shooting corn.

Cinderella's lefts and rights
To Geraldine's were frights,
And I trow
The damsel, deftly read more

Cinderella's lefts and rights
To Geraldine's were frights,
And I trow
The damsel, deftly shod,
Has dutifully trod
Until now.