The cobbler of Hoon was mending the shoon, Of starving Skuterskelf. He shared in the life of each man and his wife And marveled in himself. He found him a friend in dank Rotten End, Who promised to read him right, But sunk in a bog, and carved by a flog, Lay a mill boy dead of fright. So his next mad exploit was to dash down to Quoit, And to plot with troubled Quill. Together they stood as he said that they should, And burned the tyrant's mill. At high Upper-up they lifted him up, And his words were wisdom sweet, And he ridded the town of a power pompous clown, At old Spital-On-The-Street. Up Giggelty way on a hot market day, He spanked the rector's daughter, Who joined in a feast and forgot her poor beast, Tied far from shade and water. When the spot plague was red and the fast rotting dead Turned green in Primrose Lane. The Cobbler of Hoon in his tender shoon, Had walked the paths of pain. At Maggot's End and without a friend To mark the grave headstone, The Cobbler of Hoon one gray cold noon, Was laid, a man unknown. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE SOUL'S EXPRESSION by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING MEDIOCRITY IN LOVE REJECTED by THOMAS CAREW MILTON'S PRAYER [OF PATIENCE, OR, IN BLINDNESS] by ELIZABETH LLOYD HOWELL AT THE SHRINE by RICHARD KENDALL MUNKITTRICK KITTY NEIL by JOHN FRANCIS WALLER COMPARES THE TROUBLES WHICH HE HAS UNDERGONE, TO LABOURS OF HERCULES by PHILIP AYRES EN TOUR; A SONG SEQUENCE: 2. TREASURE by ALBERTA BANCROFT |