‘Come lady, bring that pot Gone black of polish And whatever pan this mending master Should trim back to shape. I`ll correct each mar On silver dish, And shine that kettle of copper At your fireside Bright as blood. ‘Come lady, bring that face Fallen from luster. Time`s soot in bleared eye Can be made to glister For small charge. No form`s gone so awry, Crook-back or bandy-leg, But Tinker Jack can forge Beauty from hag. ‘Whatever scath Fierce fire`s wrought Jack will touch up And fit for use. What scar`s been knocked Into cracked heart Jack shall repair. ‘And if there be Young wives still blithe, Still fair, Whose labor`s not yet smoked Their fine skin sere, From their white heat Before he part Let Jack catch fire.’SourceThe script ran 0.001 seconds.
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