Life and Phantasy :: :: University of Virginia Library

Let who will be lazy, the Blacksmith is not,
He knows he must strike while the iron is hot;
His anvil makes music from morning till night,
And the swing of his arm keeps it polish'd and bright.
Bing-bang! ting-clang!

Chorus

Success to the Smith in his Forge!
Long life to the Smith in his Forge!
Sing, all you good fellows,
Tongs, hammer, and bellows,
Hurrah for the Smith in his Forge!

II

His hands are besmudged, his features the same,
It's the sign of his trade, and he thinks it no shame,
A varnish of coal needn't cause him to fret,
For an honest day's work never soil'd a man yet.

III

The cinders and embers, now rake them up fast,
The big snoring bellows shall keep a stiff blast,
The flames starting ruddy and golden and blue,
Like flow'rs that in Pluto's grim garden first grew.

IV

Come, thresh the white iron! Bing-bang goes the tune.
Keep time with the hammers, they'll fashion it soon;
The stars leap in show'rs under every shrewd blow;
Then back to the heart of the fire it must go.

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V

Now view it and turn it and hammer it well,
Leave no crack or flaw, make it sound as a bell;
A dip in the tank its fever will slake,
And the burnt water hiss like a trod-upon snake.

VI

How pleasant the square open window a-glow
In fine evening twilight, or winter and snow,
Where neighbours peep in with a greeting or smile,
Or stand in the doorway to gossip awhile.

VII

With his black hairy arms as he pokes up the fire,
You'd scarce recognise him in decent attire,
Of a holiday morning, so clean and so neat,
In a lily-white shirt as he strolls down the street.

VIII

He's a good-looking fellow, the Blacksmith, when drest,
Can swagger, or talk to the girls with the best;
And “There goes the Blacksmith!” should anyone cry,
They're welcome, his trade he will never deny.
Bing-bang! ting-clang!

Success to the Smith in his Forge!
Long life to the Smith in his Forge!
Sing, all you good fellows,
Tongs, hammer, and bellows,
Hurrah for the Smith in his Forge!
Bing-bang!