One said they were children, but another he said, “Nay,
They’re no’ but little Radicals, so we’ll leave ’em to their play.”
Look ye there!
They ratted an’ they ranted, an’ the next thing they did find,
Was a poet singing in a ditch, an’ him they left behind.
Look ye there!
One said it was a poet, an’ another he said, “Nay;
It’s only just a poor young man whose wits are stole away.”
Look ye there!
(A. C. Swinburne.)