Epitaph for Joseph Blacket, Late Poet and Shoemaker

STRANGER! behold, interred together, The _souls_ of learning and of leather. Poor Joe is gone, but left his _all_: You'll find his relics in a _stall_. His works were neat, and often found Well stitched, and with _morocco_ bound. Tread lightly--where the bard is laid-- He cannot mend the shoe he made; Yet is he happy in his hole, With verse immortal as his _sole_.…