When lo! each racking pain had flown;
His useless staff forgotten on the ground,
He leaves this holy grave, erect and sound.
“Ah!” he exclaimed, “is there no line to tell
Who was this holy man that makes me well?”
Just then the sexton did appear,
Of him he asked, “Pray, who lies buried here?”
The sexton waited long, and seemed quite shy
Of making any sort of a reply.
“Well,” he began at last with mournful sigh,