We knew his childish searching meant no harm,
But his own people somehow took alarm;
For when his heart was healed, and he returned
With songs, 'tis said that he and they were burned.
Only this one survived. I put it by
Lest one who lived so much should wholly die.
He tried to spend far more than every day,
And never asked what he would have to pay.
To him a pint of music was a potion
That set him dabbling in some small emotion.