A tailor 'gan to wander One Monday morning fair, And then he met the devil, Whose feet and legs were bare: "Hallo, thou tailor-fellow, Come now with me to hell--oh, And measure clothes for us to wear, For what you will is well, oh!" The tailor measured, then he took His scissors long and clipped The devils' little tails all off, And to and fro they skipped. "Hallo, thou tailor-fellow, Now hie thee out of hell--oh, We do not need this clipping, sir: What you will is not well, oh!" The tailor took his iron out, And tossed it in the fire; The devils' wrinkles then he pressed; Their screams were something dire: "Hallo, thou tailor-fellow, Now get thee out of hell--oh, We do not need this pressing, What you will is not well, oh!" "Keep still!" he said, and pierced their heads With a bodkin from his sack. "This way we put the buttons on, For that's our tailor's knack!" "Hallo, thou tailor-fellow, Now hie thee out of hell--oh, We do not need this dressing: What you will is not well, oh!" With thimble and with needle then His stitching he began, And closed the devils' nostrils up As tightly as one can. "Hallo, thou tailor-fellow, Now hie thee out of hell--oh, We cannot use our noses, Do what we will for smell, oh!" Then he began to cut away-- It must have made them smart-- With all his might the tailor ripped The devils' ears apart: "Hallo, thou tailor-fellow, Now march away from hell--oh, We else should need a Doctor, If what you will were well--oh!" And last of all came Lucifer And cried: "What horror fell! No devil has his little tail; So drive him out of hell: Hallo, thou tailor-fellow, Now hie thee out of hell--oh, We need to wear no clothes at all-- What you will is not well, oh!" And when the tailor's sack was packed, He felt so very well--oh! He hopped and skipped without dismay And had a laughing spell--oh! And hurried out of hell--oh! And stayed a tailor-fellow; And the devil will catch no tailor now, Let him steal, as he will--it is well, though! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: EPILOGUE by EDGAR LEE MASTERS SONNET: 19. ON HIS BLINDNESS by JOHN MILTON FIRST OF MAY by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH THE DEATH OF HUSS by ALFRED AUSTIN THE SINGERS OF DELLA ROBBIA by ALFRED BARRETT LOVE'S SECRET by ROBERT PECK BATES ASCENSION OF A CITY FOG by FRANCES COFFIN BOAZ THE YOUNG DEAD by MAXWELL STRUTHERS BURT ATTACH TO ALPHONSO FERRABOSCO'S 'AIRS': TO THE WORTHY AUTHOR by THOMAS CAMPION |