The White Knight's Song

'Haddock's Eyes' or 'The Aged Aged Man' or
                 'Ways and Means' or 'A-Sitting On A Gate'

     I'll tell thee everything I can;
          There's little to relate.
     I saw an aged, aged man,
          A-sitting on a gate.
     'Who are you, aged man?' I said.
          'And how is it you live?'
     And his answer trickled through my head
          Like water through a sieve.

     He said 'I look for butterflies
          That sleep among the wheat;
     I make them into mutton-pies,
          And sell them in the street.
     I sell them unto men,' he said,
          'Who sail on stormy seas;
     And that's the way I get my bread--
          A trifle, if you please.'

     But I was thinking of a plan
          To dye one's whiskers green,
     And always use so large a fan
          That it could not be seen.
     So, having no reply to give
          To what the old man said,
     I cried, 'Come, tell me how you live!'
          And thumped him on the head.

     His accents mild took up the tale;
          He said, 'I go my ways,
     And when I find a mountain-rill,
          I set it in a blaze.
     And thence they make a stuff they call
          Rowland's Macassar Oil--
     Yet twopence-halfpenny is all
          They give me for my toil.'

     But I was thinking of a way
          To feed oneself on batter,
     And so go on from day to day
          Getting a little fatter.
     I shook him well from side to side,
          Until his face was blue;
     'Come, tell me how you live,' I cried
          'And what it is you do!'

     He said, 'I hunt for haddocks' eyes
          Among the heather bright,
     And work them into waistcoat-buttons
          In the silent night.
     And these I do not sell for gold
          Or coin of silvery shine,
     But for a copper halfpenny,
          And that will purchase nine.

     'I sometimes dig for buttered rolls,
          Or set limed twigs for crabs;
     I sometimes search the grassy knolls
          For wheels of hansom-cabs.
     And that's the way' (he gave a wink)
          'By which I get my wealth--
     And very gladly will I drink
          Your Honor's noble health.'

     I heard him then, for I had just
          Completed my design
     To keep the Menai bridge from rust
          By boiling it in wine.
     I thanked him much for telling me
          The way he got his wealth,
     But chiefly for his wish that he
          Might drink my noble health.

     And now, if e'er by chance I put
          My fingers into glue,
     Or madly squeeze a right-hand foot
          Into a left-hand shoe,
     Or if I drop upon my toe
          A very heavy weight,
     I weep, for it reminds me so
     Of that old man I used to know--
     Whose look was mild, whose speech was slow,
     Whose hair was whiter than the snow,
     Whose face was very like a crow
     With eyes, like cinders, all aglow,
     Who seemed distracted with his woe,
     Who rocked his body to and fro,
     And muttered mumblingly and low,
     As if his mouth were full of dough,
     Who snorted like a buffalo--
     That summer evening long ago
          A-sitting on a gate.