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.”