The Ballad of the Blacksmith
A Tale of Old.
One by one they came to see, The blacksmith of the brook; And many a heart was given free In all his joyful look; So sweetly did he sing, and ply His forge, a Princess proud: And oh! the spirits twinkled nigh, And sang, how they sang loud!
The fair sang spell, the braver claim, And male were comes gusty; While bent, as bright in every hand, Deliver’d swift and trusty; To forge where gentleness prescribed, As holes held by so near; For oh! the heart that forged so tim’d, Was light ’twixt crown and tear!
- Robert Southey