THE FIRST MATCH
In the days of great Grandmother
People often worked each other
When they sought a little light
At the coming of the night,
Or to bake their bread and meat
As fire making was a feat
Quite difficult and very slow.
So oft without a light they'd go
Instead of spending e'en an hour
With flint and steel exerting power
To make a little fiery spark
Which would produce light in the dark.
But in eighteen twenty-seven
Some good man earned fame from Heaven
By inventing a real match
Which one needed but to scratch
On its sulphur head so small
When forth came fire for us all.