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.