Haply may some grey-headed warder say,
“Oft have we seen him, in the convict rank,
Brushing with measured steps the dust away
From off the mill, or working at the crank.
“There in the school-room where the boys they teach,
The Chaplain he would queer, upon the sly;
Glib texts would quote, or contrite mug would stretch,
Tipping the wink to pals that sniggered by.
“When, in the chapel, duller rogues would scorn,
The Parson’s pains that to convert them strove;