Eighth Grade

Priest and pedagogue both in the village, had
taught them their letters
Out of the selfsame book, with the hymns of the
church and the plain-song.
But when the hymn was sung, and the daily lesson
completed,
Swiftly they hurried away to the forge of Basil the
blacksmith.
There at the door they stood, with wondering eyes
to behold him
Take in his leathern lap the hoof of the horse as a
plaything,
Nailing the shoe in its place; while near him the
tire of the cart-wheel
Lay like a fiery snake, coiled round in a circle of
cinders.
Oft on autumnal eves, when without in the gather
ing darkness
Bursting with light seemed the smithy, through
every cranny and crevice,
Warm by the forge within they watched the labor
ing bellows,
And as its panting ceased, and the sparks expired
in the ashes,
Merrily laughed, and said they were nuns going
into the chapel.
Oft on sledges in winter, as swift as the swoop of
the eagle,
Down the hillside bounding, they glided away o'er
the meadow.
Oft in the barns they climbed to the populous nests
on the rafters,
Seeking with eager eyes that wondrous stone,
which the swallow
Brings from the shore of the sea to restore the
sight of its fledglings;

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