| A speckled cat and a tame hare |
| Eat at my hearthstone |
| And sleep there; |
| And both look up to me alone |
| For learning and defence |
| As I look up to Providence. |
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| I start out of my sleep to think |
| Some day I may
forget |
| Their food and drink; |
| Or, the house door left unshut, |
| The hare may run till it’s found |
| The horn’s
sweet note and the tooth of the hound. |
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| I bear a burden that might well try |
| Men that do all by rule, |
| And
what can I |
| That am a wandering-witted fool |
| But pray to God that He ease |
| My great responsibilities? |
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| I slept on my three-legged stool by the fire, |
| The speckled cat slept on my knee; |
| We never thought to
enquire |
| Where the brown hare might be, |
| And whether the door were shut. |
| Who knows how she drank
the wind |
| Stretched up on two legs from the mat, |
| Before she had settled her mind |
| To drum with her heel
and to leap? |
| Had I but awakened from sleep |
| And called her name, she had heard, |
| It may be, and had
not stirred, |
| That now, it may be, has found |
| The horn’s sweet note and the tooth of the hound. |