In the flame of the flickering fire The sins of my soul are few And the thoughts in my head are the thoughts of a bed With a solitary view.
But the eye of eternal consciousness Must blink as a bat blinks bright Or ever the thoughts in my head be stilled On the brink of eternal night.
Oh feed to the golden fish his egg Where he floats in his captive bowl,
To the cat his kind from the womb born blind,
And to the Lord my soul.
