It has a surface smooth as glass, Take care! For you can't see what will come to pass, Beware! Beware! Trust it not, It will injure thee. It shows your wondrous grace and skill, Take care! But naught it says about a spill, Beware! Beware! Trust it not, It will injure thee! It tells you much of pleasure there, Take care! 'Tis a delusion and a snare, Beware! Beware! Trust it not, It will injure thee!" _Idyls of the Rink_, 1876. * * * * * BEWARE! (_Dedicated to Lord Salisbury._) I know a statesman fair to hear; Take care! He can make worst the best appear; His "little game" is very clear. Beware! Beware! Trust him not--he is one to fear. He has a conscience--_he says so;_ Take care! He knows how far to let it go (We had a _Treaty_ once, you know). Beware! Beware! Trust him not, though it _may_ be so. He gives thee a mode of trading "fair;" Take care! It is a fool's-cap for thee to wear! A "card" for him, for thee a snare. Beware! Beware! Trust him not, though it sounds so rare. He has one face, and some say _two;_ Take care! And what he says it is not true, He would do good, but not to _you_. Beware! Beware! Trust him not, or you will rue. _Grins and Groans_, 1882. * * * * * THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 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. * * * * * Week in, week out, from morn till night, You can hear his bellows blow, You can hear him swing his heavy sledge, With measured beat and slow, Like a sexton ringing the village bell, When the evening sun is low. * * * * * LONGFELLOW. * * * * * THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH AS HE IS. Under the spreading chestnut tree The village blacksmith stands, The smith an awful cad is he With very dirty hands. For keepers and the rural police He doesn't care a hang. He swears, and fights, and whops his wife, Gets drunk whene'er he can; In point of fact, our village smith's A very awful man.