For drowning ones know neither reason nor law,
And to that which they ridiculed many a day
They anxiously turned in their fear and dismay,
Half trusting by that their destruction to stay.
We may laugh at all creeds, and discredit tradition,
But danger discovers our blind superstition.
When our bodies are sick and we lie on our backs,
If we can not find doctors we send for the quacks;
And if one should grow worse, there is no use denying
That the priest whom he scoffed at he wants when he’s dying;