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The Blacksmith.

A Blacksmith you’ll own is most clever,
And great in the world is his place;
And the reason I’ve guess’d, why for ever
A Blacksmith deserving of grace.
Sing fal de la, &c.

Great Lawyers who plead and who preach,
While many good causes they mar,
May yield to the Blacksmith to teach,
For he labours still more at the bar.

When great men do wrong in the State,
The Commons try hard at their poles;
Whilst the Blacksmith, as certain as fate,
Could have ’em haul'd over the coals.

And if rogues put their name to a draft.
The law for their hanging will teaze;
Bat Blacksmiths are free from all craft.
And may forge just as much as they please.

The vices of trade he holds cheap,
And laughs at the world as it rails,
For, spite of the pother they keep,
They can’t make a Smith eat his nails!

And if, to his praise be it spoke,
To raise him still higher and higher,
You may say, and without any joke,
All he gets is got out of the fire.