Sang old Tom the lunatic

    That sleeps under the canopy；

    ‘What change has put my thoughts astray

    And eyes that had so keen a sight？

    What has turned to smoking wick

    Nature‘s pure unchanging light？

    ‘Huddon and Duddon and Daniel O’Leary，

    Holy Joe， the beggar-man，

    Wenching， drinking， still remain

    Or sing a penance on the road；

    Something made these eyeballs weary

    That blinked and saw them in a shroud.

    ‘Whatever stands in field or flood

    Bird， beast， fish or man，

    Mare or stallion， cock or hen，

    Stands in God‘s unchanging eye

    In all the vigour of its blood；

    In that faith I live or die.‘