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 brawny1 armsare strong as iron bands.
his hair is crisp, and black, and long; his face is like the tan2;his brow is wet with honest sweat; he earns whate"er he can;and looks the whole world in the face, for he owes not any man.
week in, week out, from morn till night you can hear his bellows blow;you can hear him swing his heavy sledge,1brawny: strong and powerful.
2like the tan: of a dark-brown colour.
with measured beat1 and slow, like a sexton2 ringing the village bell,when the evening sun is low.
and children coming home from school look in at the open door ;they love to see the flaming forge,and hear the bellows roar,and catch the burning sparks that fly like chaff from a threshing-floor.
he goes on sunday to the church, and sits among his boys;he hears the parson pray and preach; he hears his daughter"s voicesinging in the village choir,and it makes his heart rejoice.
it sounds to him like her mother"s voice singing in paradise!
he needs must think of her once more, how in the grave she lies;and with his hard rough hand he wipes a tear out of his eyes.
1with measured beat: striking regular blows.
2sexton: caretaker of a church, one of whose duties it is to ring the bell. the curfew bell is alluded to in the poem.
"children coming home from school look in at the open door."toiling, rejoicing, sorrowing, onward through life he goes;each morning sees some task begin, each evening ,sees it close;something attempted, something done has earned a night"s repose.
thanks, thanks to thee, my worthy friend, for the lesson thou hast taught!
thus at the flaming forge of life our fortunes must be wrought; thus on its sounding anvil shaped each burning deed and thought.
-longfellow
