Classic Poem

Hob yawned three times and rubbed his eyes,
Dreaming 'twas near his hour to rise;
By instinct knew that day was broke,
And up he got, and then he woke;
Bethought him well 'twas holiday,
And reached him down his best array.
His frock from the same piece was ta'en
That is the tilt upon his wain;
His doublet underneath must be,
So we'll suppose what we can't see.
A leathern thong each knee did grace,
Two more were shoe-strings by their place;
The shoes themselves those shoe-strings tie
With Dobbin's might, or Whitefoot's, vie;
Of iron they wore an equal load,
Not Grecian chiefs went better shod.
Happy 't had been for Thetis' son,
Had in those days Hob's shoes been known.
Lank locks of black, at t' other end,
Beneath a beaver white depend:
The ribbon on't, true blue, some say
Had bound Doll's hose her wedding-day.
Kind Nature, and the sun as kind,
To fit him well with gloves had joined.
He wore no band of point, indeed,
But a stiff collar was instead.
His belt was buff; the same of old
At the Nemean fair were sold:
Hob won him at the wake hard by,
Owned chief in feats of chivalry.
His person did his garb so fit,
It seemed to have been made for it:
His legs were massy and well freight,
And the ground witnessed to the weight:
His head walked foremost as the best,
But they soon followed with the rest.
Brown as his bread a face he wore,
Summers long ceased to bake it more.
Smut was his joke, loud laugh his smile,
And box the teeth he showed the while.
Fat, though most days to god of heat
He sacrificed a pound in sweat:
Hence sav'ry fumes disperse in air,
Hence Towzer scents his lord so far.
Such Hob; and, without help of glass,
He scoured his fist upon his face;
New-combed him, and then scratched his head
To know which way his luck would lead.
A crab-tree in his hand he took,
And issued out in his best look.
Beware, ye lasses every one,
Bridget and Nancy, Nell and Joan!
The god of love's abroad this day,
And ev'ry girl he finds is prey:
Trust not your hearts, your ears, your eyes,
He means to take you by surprise,
For Hob is Cupid in disguise.