When the ape and the wolf bared fangs to eat
A silly dish of praise,
The drowsing master snatched the meat
Which mocked his faithless days.
He grasped the beasts by a hanging chain
And stood in his house, a lord again.
Then out he went through a feeble morn
With the drunken sleep in his eyes,
He begged affront, he craved for scorn,
In mendicant's disguise.
And of these gifts divinely given,
His faith in life, his hope of Heaven.