 | [Poems by Cary in] The Poetical Works Of Alice and Phoebe Cary |  |
THE SHOEMAKER.
Now the hickory with its hum
Cheers the wild and rainy weather,
And the shoemaker has come
With his lapstone, last, and leather.
Cheers the wild and rainy weather,
And the shoemaker has come
With his lapstone, last, and leather.
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With his head as white as wool,
With the wrinkles getting bolder,
And his heart with news as full
As the wallet on his shoulder.
With the wrinkles getting bolder,
And his heart with news as full
As the wallet on his shoulder.
How the children's hearts will beat,
How their eyes will shine with pleasure
As he sets their little feet,
Bare and rosy, in his measure,
How their eyes will shine with pleasure
As he sets their little feet,
Bare and rosy, in his measure,
And how, behind his chair,
They will steal grave looks to summon,
As he ties away his hair
From his forehead, like a woman.
They will steal grave looks to summon,
As he ties away his hair
From his forehead, like a woman.
When he tells the merry news
How their eyes will laugh and glisten,
While the mother binds the shoes
And they gather round and listen.
How their eyes will laugh and glisten,
While the mother binds the shoes
And they gather round and listen.
But each one, leaning low
On his lapstone, will be crying,
As he tells how little Jo,
With a broken back is dying.
On his lapstone, will be crying,
As he tells how little Jo,
With a broken back is dying.
Of the way he came to fall
In the flowery April weather,
Of the new shoes on the wall
That are hanging, tied together.
In the flowery April weather,
Of the new shoes on the wall
That are hanging, tied together.
How the face of little Jo
Has grown white, and they who love him
See the shadows come and go,
As if angels flew above him.
Has grown white, and they who love him
See the shadows come and go,
As if angels flew above him.
And the old shoemaker, true
To the woe of the disaster,
Will uplift his apron blue
To his eyes, then work the faster.
To the woe of the disaster,
Will uplift his apron blue
To his eyes, then work the faster.
| [Poems by Cary in] The Poetical Works Of Alice and Phoebe Cary | |