| Citation |
NYWJ.740.001
7 Jan 1740:11 (317)
THE COBLER, A Tale. For the benefit of the Hipshy Cripshy.
Your sage and moralist can show
Many misfortunes here below;
A truth which no one ever miss'd.
Tho' neither sage nor moralist:
. . . [42 more lines, then:]
Chearful at working, as at play,
He sung and whistled life away:
When rising morning glads the sky,
Clear as the merry lark and high;
When ev'ning shades the landskip vail,
Late warbling as the nightingale.
Tho' pence came slow, and trade was ill
Yet still he sung and whistled still;
. . . [10 more lines, then:]
It chanc'd as once in bed he lay,
When dreams are true, at brake of day,
He heard the cobler at his sport,
Amidst his music stopping short:
. . . [19 more lines, then:]
No sooner down, then with a jerk
He fell to musick, and to work,
If much he griev'd our Don before,
When but o'th`outside of his door;
How sorely must he now molest,
When got o'th`inside of his breast!
The waking dreamer groans and swells
And pangs imaginary feels;
Catches and scraps of tunes he hears
For ever ringing in his ears:
. . . [16 lines, then:]
Whistling and stitching there to see
The cobler, as he us'd to be.
. . . [76 more lines, then:]
My life for yours, I`ll set you free
From this same two legg'd tympany.
. . . [92 more lines]
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