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
Scissars to grind O!’
“Tell me, knife-grinder, how came you to grind knives?