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Poem
October 7, 1793
The Patowmac Guardian, And Berkeley Advertiser
Martinsburg, Shepherdstown, Berkeley County, Jefferson County, West Virginia
What is this article about?
A pun-filled elegy on the death of a blacksmith, likening him to Samson and Vulcan, highlighting his trade through wordplay on forging, burning, shoes, fire, and hissing, concluding with his burial and the end of hammering sounds. Dated Sept. 14.
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Full Text
SEAT OF THE MUSES.
ELEGY
On the Death of a Black Smith.
the nerves
of a Samson this son of the forge,
By the anvil his livelihood got;
With the skill of old Vulcan could temper an edge;
And struck—while his iron was hot.
By forging he liv'd, yet never was tried,
Or condemn'd by the laws of the land;
But still it is certain, and can't be denied,
He often was burnt in the hand.
With the Sons of St. Crispin no kindred he claim'd,
With the lad he had nothing to do;
He handled no awl, and yet in his time
Made many an excellent shoe.
He blew up no coals of sedition, but still
His bellows was always in blast:
And I will acknowledge (deny it who will)
That one fire, and but one, he possess'd.
No actor was he, or concern'd with the stage,
No audience to awe him appear'd;
Yet oft in his shop (like a crowd in a rage)
The voice of a hissing was heard.
Tho' stealing of axes was part of his cares,
In thieving he never was found;
And tho' he was constantly beating on bars,
No vessel he e'er ran aground.
Alas and alack! and what more can I say
Of Vulcan's unfortunate son?…
The priest and the sexton have borne him away,
And the sound of the hammer is done!
Sept. 14.
ELEGY
On the Death of a Black Smith.
the nerves
of a Samson this son of the forge,
By the anvil his livelihood got;
With the skill of old Vulcan could temper an edge;
And struck—while his iron was hot.
By forging he liv'd, yet never was tried,
Or condemn'd by the laws of the land;
But still it is certain, and can't be denied,
He often was burnt in the hand.
With the Sons of St. Crispin no kindred he claim'd,
With the lad he had nothing to do;
He handled no awl, and yet in his time
Made many an excellent shoe.
He blew up no coals of sedition, but still
His bellows was always in blast:
And I will acknowledge (deny it who will)
That one fire, and but one, he possess'd.
No actor was he, or concern'd with the stage,
No audience to awe him appear'd;
Yet oft in his shop (like a crowd in a rage)
The voice of a hissing was heard.
Tho' stealing of axes was part of his cares,
In thieving he never was found;
And tho' he was constantly beating on bars,
No vessel he e'er ran aground.
Alas and alack! and what more can I say
Of Vulcan's unfortunate son?…
The priest and the sexton have borne him away,
And the sound of the hammer is done!
Sept. 14.
What sub-type of article is it?
Elegy
Satire
What themes does it cover?
Death Mourning
Satire Society
What keywords are associated?
Blacksmith Elegy
Forge Puns
Vulcan Samson
Death Satire
Trade Humor
Poem Details
Title
Elegy On The Death Of A Black Smith.
Subject
On The Death Of A Black Smith.
Form / Style
Rhymed Couplets
Key Lines
By The Anvil His Livelihood Got;
With The Skill Of Old Vulcan Could Temper An Edge;
And Struck—While His Iron Was Hot.
He Often Was Burnt In The Hand.
Made Many An Excellent Shoe.
That One Fire, And But One, He Possess'd.
The Sound Of The Hammer Is Done!