|Hoyt & Roberts, comps. Hoyts New Cyclopedia of Practical Quotations. 1922.|
|Cursd be that wretch (Deaths factor sure) who brought|
Dire swords into the peaceful world, and taught
Smiths (who before could only make
The spade, the plough-share, and the rake)
Arts, in most cruel wise
Mans left to epitomize!
Abraham CowleyIn Commendation of the Time we live under, the Reign of our gracious King, Charles II.
|Come, see the Dolphins anchor forged; tis at a white heat now:|
The billows ceased, the flames decreased; though on the forges brow
The little flames still fitfully play through the sable mound;
And fitfully you still may see the grim smiths ranking round,
All clad in leathern panoply, their broad hands only bare;
Some rest upon their sledges here, some work the windlass there.
Samuel FergusonThe Forging of the Anchor. St. 1.
|The smith and his penny both are black.|
|And the smith his iron measures hammered to the anvils chime;|
Thanking God, whose boundless wisdom makes the flowers of poesy bloom
In the forges dust and cinders, in the tissues of the loom.
LongfellowNuremberg. L. 34.
|Under a spreading chestnut tree|
The village smithy stands:
The smith, a mighty man is he,
With large and sinewy hands;
And the muscles of his brawny arms
Are strong as iron bands.
LongfellowThe Village Blacksmith.
|As great Pythagoras of yore,|
Standing beside the blacksmiths door,
And hearing the hammers, as they smote
The anvils with a different note,
Stole from the varying tones, that hung
Vibrant on every iron tongue,
The secret of the sounding wire,
And formed the seven-chorded lyre.
LongfellowTo a Child. L. 175.
|And he sang: Hurra for my handiwork!|
And the red sparks lit the air;
Not alone for the blade was the bright steel made;
And he fashioned the first ploughshare.
Chas. MackayTubal Cain. St. 4.
|In other part stood one who, at the forge|
Labouring, two massy clods of iron and brass
MiltonParadise Lost. Bk. XI. L. 564.
|I saw a smith stand with his hammer, thus,|
The whilst his iron did on the anvil cool.
King John. Act IV. Sc. 2. L. 193.
|The paynefull smith, with force of fervent heat,|
The hardest yron soone doth mollify,
That with his heavy sledge he can it beat,
And fashion it to what he it list apply.