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Digitized by the Internet Archive
in
2009
with funding from
Sloan Foundation
http://www.archive.org/details/villageblacksmitOOIong
y^HIS
Edition of
The
Village Blacksmith
is
published by special
ARRANGEMENT WITH MESSRS. HOUGHTON, MiFFLIN & Co. THE AUTHORIZED
.
publishers of Mr. Longfellow's Works.
M0^MM/j§4/)0m'>/MI djiM «B»w„scr.«.««^j
i
'77/6'
S7nith,
a mighty
man
is
he:'
The
Village
Blacksmith
HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW
ILLUSTRATED
E.
P.
31
NEW YORK
BUTTON & COMPANY
West Twenty-third Street
%s
Copyright, iSSj,
By
E. P.
DuTTON AND Company.
'^-okU
*ROCKWE LL 5> Li^^te!^ |C H U R C H
I
LL^i
T^RUE
poet
true
also
is
commonest
earth's
water of every-day
priest.
He
takes
things, the plain bread
and
toil
of
and
and, having laid
trial,
hands upon them, he delivers them
loving, reverent
unto us enriched with a new grace, a diviner virtue.
It
the sacrament of thought.
is
Half
years
—
a
century ago
— and
until
within
in Brattle street,
from
home.
not far
Longfellow's
few
New Eng-
a blacksmith's shop, of the old
land village type, stood
a
Cambridge,
Hundreds of
passers-by glanced at the low roof, the overhanging
boughs,
grimy
the
gazing children
at
the
without giving them
the poet.
Where
a
smith
forge,
the
door, and went their
way
at
his
second thought.
Not so
others saw but the veriest
com-
INTR OD UC TION.
monplacc
song,
—
discovered
he
sorrow,
love,
strength of dut\',
human
earnest
patience
the
beauty and
all
and
lives
on.
not old
the
slide
;
times
tree,
passers-by,
pictures
Its
it
will
and
farther
hope,
the
smith
loitering
alike
are
fade
not;
and
children,
the
song
lessons
grow
gone,
its
the
tragedy of
And though
living.
tuneful
for
of
the
smithy, the sheltering
poet
material
fit
but become the more precious as
customs
back
into
which
the past,
it
commemorates
and
differ
more
widely from those of to-day.
W. M.
L.
J.
ILLUSTRATIONS
DRAWN AND ENGRAVED UNDER THE SUPERVISION OF
GEORGE
T.
ANDREW.
ARTISTS,
Edmund H. Garrett,
Frank
T. Merrill,
Chas. Copeland,
Jessie Curtis
Shepherd,
Miss E.
S.
Tucker,
F. B.
Schell,
\„
il
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OlK5^:^^^4^-:^^r^'^n]?]ni?l';7?[^^j^^^^
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it^v4ij^*'-.r
T
TNDER
The
The
village
smithy stands
smith, a mighty
With
And
a spreading chestnut tree
man
is
he,
large and sinewy hands
the muscles of his
Are strone
brawny arms
as iron bands.
;
;
His hair
is
His face
His brow
crisp,
is
is
and black, and
like
wet with honest sweat.
He earns whate'er
And looks the whole
For he owes not
Week
in,
loni;",
the tan
week
out,
he can,
workl
an)'
in
the face.
man.
from morn
till
You can hear his bellows blow
You can hear him swint; his hea\-\'
night
sledge,
With measured beat and
Like
a
village
When
sexton
I'inging
slow,
the
bell,
the evening sun
is
low.
;
And
children
Look
They
at the
open door
love to see the flaming forge.
And
And
in
coming home from school
hear the bellows roar,
catch the burning sparks that
Like chaff from a threshins"
floor.
fly
He
goes on Sunday to the church,
;
And
He
sits
among
his
boys
hears the parson pray and preach,
Singing
And
in the village choir,
it
makes
his heart rejoice.
L
\
It
sounds to him
Singing
in
her mother's voice,
like
Paradise
!
;
He
needs must think of her once more,
How
And
A
in the
grave she hes
with his hard, rough hand he wipes
tear out of his eyes.
;
Toiling,
—
rejoicing,
Onward through
Each morning
sees
Each evening
— sorrowing.
hfe he goes;
some
sees
it
task begin,
close
Something attempted, something done,
Has earned
a night's repose.
;
Thanks, thanks to thee,
my
!
worthy
For the lesson thou hast taught
Thus
at the
Our
fortunes must be wrought
Thus on
Each
flamhig forge of hfe
its
sounding anvil shaped
burnincf deed and thought!
friend,
^^^^^^^^^