Friend of Humanity:

“Needy Knife-grinder, whither are you going?

Rough is the road,—your wheel is out of order;

Bleak blows the blast,—your hat has got a hole in’t,

So have your breeches.

“Weary Knife-grinder, little think the proud ones,

Who in their coaches roll along the turnpike

Road, what hard work ’tis crying all day, ‘Knives and

Scissors to grind, O!’

“Tell me, Knife-grinder, how came you to grind knives?