Explore "The Shoemaker" by James Whitcomb Riley on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Thou Poet, who, like any lark, / Dost whet thy beak and trill / From misty morn till murky dark, / Nor ever pipe thy fill: / Hast thou not, in thy cheery note, / One poor chirp to confer -- / One verseful twitter to devote / Unto the Shoe-ma-ker?
At early dawn he doth peg in / His noble work and brave; / And eke from cark and wordly sin / He seeketh soles to save; / And all day long, with quip and song, / Thus stitcheth he the way / Our feet may know the right from wrong, / Nor ever go a stray.