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.

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.

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.]

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.

A careless shoe string, in whose tie
I see a wilde civility.

A careless shoe string, in whose tie
I see a wilde civility.

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.

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.

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.