Like the jungle he lives in,
Tiger wears a dappled skin.
Foxes on the plains of snow
White as their surroundings go.
So do fishes lose their sight,
Buried in the ocean's night,
Little knowing lovely day
Lies but half a mile away.
For the truth is plain to see,
As our haunts are, so are we;
And in cities you will find
Busy blind men just as blind.
Long ago they lost their eyes
Under bags of merchandise;
And they know not there are still
Angels on the window-sill.
GWENDOLEN
Monkey Island