Poetry: The Village Blacksmith

"The VlUage Blacksmith" hiuet be quotê( ntire; il is a picture of real life drawn by í inaíter hand, and the mota! with which it con eludes comes home to cvery man's bosom.- We have marked one stanza in italics; il carne upon lis Jike a dream of carly years, 01 one of those strains of music herird in childhood, the remembrancc of which has been half effuced, and yét has lingoringly haunted the fmagination until ilie u.iexpected repetítion of the measure restores the perfection of niemory: - Under the spreading chesnut tree The -village smithy stands: The srnith, a mighty man is he, Wltfe lare nnd sinewy liands; And the mu6cles uf his brawny.arms Are strong as iron bands. Wis hair is crisp, and black, and long1, His face is like the tan; Ilis brow is wet with honest sweat, He earns whatc'er he can, And loolis the whole world in tlie face, For he owes not ony man. Weekin, week out, from mom til! night, r}; YoX can hear hU beliows blow; You caa hear Jiim swing his heavy sledge, With measured beat and slow, j Like a sexton rining the village bel], Wben the evening sun is low. And chüdren coming home f rom school Look m al the open door; They lave to see the jiaming forge, And hear the hdloics 1 oar, And catch the hunimg spatte thal Jly Likt choff from a threshing Jloor. He goes on Sunday (o the church, And eits amonjr his boye; lic Jiears the parson prny and preacb, " 'fíe hears his daughter's voice, c Singing in the village choir, And it makes his heart rejoice. cIt sounds to him Kfce.her inother's voice, Sing-ina in Parndise! He needs must ihink of her once more, How in the grave she lies; And with bis hard rough hand he wipes A tear out of hïs eyes. Toi'ing - n1] licinT - ïovtovrlng, Onward tbrough lifè he goes; Each morning sees some task begin, Each evening sees its close: Sometbing attempted, eomething done, Has earned a nigbt's reDöse. Thnnks, thanks lo thee, my wortby friend Forthe lesson thou hast taughl! ,. Tbus at the flnming forge of life Our fortunes must be wrought; Thus on ils sounding anvilshaped Each burning deed and ihoughl!