If you're a blacksmith, probably the proudest day of your life is when you get your first anvil. How innocent you are, little blacksmith.
Jack Handey in Deep Thoughts
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The blacksmith in one village becomes a blacksmith's apprentice in another.
The country blacksmith who employs no journeyman is never conscious of any conflict between the capital invested in his anvil, hammer and bellows, and the labor he performs with them, because in fact, there is none.
quote by Leland Stanford
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Anvil
England's on the anvil--hear the hammers ring--
Clanging from the Severn to the Tyne!
Never was a blacksmith like our Norman King--
England's being hammered, hammered, hammered into line!
England's on the anvil! Heavy are the blows!
(But the work will be a marvel when it's done.)
Little bits of Kingdoms cannot stand against their foes.
England's being hammered hammered, hammered into one!
There shall be one people--it shall serve one Lord--
(Neither Prist nor Baron shall escape!)
It shall have one speech and law, soul and strength and sword.
England's being hammered, hammered, hammered into
shape!
poem by Rudyard Kipling
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Stranger
I met him on the way last sunday
He said that he is a Postmaster
I said how glad to meet him
and I gave him some letters to post.
I met him again, yes the same person on monday.
He said that he knows my father and he too a blacksmith.
Then I gave him a knife to sharpen.
I met him at the cemetery gravel road on Tuesday.
Yes, the same gentleman.
He said that he is a Pawnbroker, he knows my mother well
and he lives behind the cemetery.
I gave him my wedding ring and begged for money.
He took it and ran away.
One day when I was just passing the graveyard I saw his tomb with a photograph.
and this was written.
'Once a post master
and a blacksmith
killed a pawnbroker
died as a gambler'
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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He who allows his day to pass by without practicing generosity and enjoying life's pleasures is like a blacksmith's bellows. He breathes, but does not live.
The White Heat
Dare you see a Soul at the White Heat?
Then crouch within the door --
Red -- is the Fire's common tint --
But when the vivid Ore
Has vanquished Flame's conditions,
It quivers from the Forge
Without a color, but the light
Of unanointed Blaze.
Least Village has its Blacksmith
Whose Anvil's even ring
Stands symbol for the finer Forge
That soundless tugs -- within --
Re[f]ining these impatient Ores
With Hammer, and with Blaze
Untile the Designated Light
Repudiate the Forge
poem by Emily Dickinson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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He who allows his day to pass by without practicing generosity and enjoying life's pleasures is like a blacksmith's bellows: he breathes but does not live.
It is by forging that one becomes a blacksmith.
Everyone is the blacksmith of his own fortune.
What business does a dog have in the shop of the blacksmith.
A piece of iron can only become what the blacksmith says it should become.
If you talk to the blacksmith you'll get hit by sparks.
If the metal is not good, you cannot take it out on the blacksmith.
Blacksmith's children are not afraid of sparks.
It was Blacksmith's guilt, but the Gypsy was hanged.