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.

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.

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.

Marry because you have drank with the king,
And the king hath so graciously pledged you,
You read more

Marry because you have drank with the king,
And the king hath so graciously pledged you,
You shall no more be called shoemakers.
But you and yours to the world's end
Shall be called the trade of the gentle craft.

. . . And holding out his shoe, asked them whether it was not new and
well made. "Yet," read more

. . . And holding out his shoe, asked them whether it was not new and
well made. "Yet," added he, "none of you can tell where it
pinches me."

The title of Ultracrepidarian critics has been given to those
persons who find fault with small and insignificant details.

The title of Ultracrepidarian critics has been given to those
persons who find fault with small and insignificant details.

Remember, cobbler, to keep to your leather.
[Lat., Memento, in pellicula, cerdo, tenere tuo.]

Remember, cobbler, to keep to your leather.
[Lat., Memento, in pellicula, cerdo, tenere tuo.]

As he cobbled and hammered from morning till dark,
With the footgear to mend on his knees,
read more

As he cobbled and hammered from morning till dark,
With the footgear to mend on his knees,
Stitching patches, or pegging on soles as he sang,
Out of tune, ancient catches and glees.

Him that makes shoes go barefoot himself.

Him that makes shoes go barefoot himself.