There's a cry and a shout, And a deuce of a rout, And nobody seems to know what they're about, But the monks have their pockets all turn'd inside out; The friars are kneeling, And hunting, and feeling The carpet, the floor, and the walls, and the ceiling. The Cardinal drew Off each plum-colour'd shoe, And left his red stockings exposed to the view; He peeps, and he feels In the toes and the heels; They turn up the dishes,--they turn up the plates,-- They take up the poker and poke out the grates, --They turn up the rugs, They examine the mugs:-- But, no!--no such thing;-- They can't find THE RING! And the Abbot declared that, "when nobody twigg'd it, Some rascal or other had popp'd in, and prigg'd it!" The Cardinal rose with a dignified look, He call'd for his candle, his bell, and his book! In holy anger, and pious grief, He solemnly cursed that rascally thief! He cursed him at board, he cursed him in bed; From the sole of his foot to the crown of his head; He cursed him in sleeping, that every night He should dream of the devil, and wake in a fright; He cursed him in eating, he cursed him in drinking, He cursed him in coughing, in sneezing, in winking; He cursed him in sitting, in standing, in lying; He cursed him in walking, in riding, in flying, He cursed him in living, he cursed him dying!-- Never was heard such a terrible curse!! But what gave rise To no little surprise, Nobody seem'd one penny the worse! The day was gone, The night came on, The Monks and the Friars they search'd till dawn; When the Sacristan saw, On crumpled claw, Come limping a poor little lame Jackdaw! No longer gay, As on yesterday; His feathers all seem'd to be turn'd the wrong way;-- His pinions droop'd--he could hardly stand,-- His head was as bald as the palm of your hand; His eye so dim, So wasted each limb, That, heedless of grammar, they all cried, "THAT HIM!-- That's the scamp that has done this scandalous thing! That's the thief that has got my Lord Cardinal's Ring!" The poor little Jackdaw, When the monks he saw, Feebly gave vent to the ghost of a caw; And turn'd his bald head, as much as to say, "Pray, be so good as to walk this way!" Slower and slower He limp'd on before, Till they came to the back of the belfry-door, Where the first thing they saw, Midst the sticks and the straw, Was the RING, in the nest of that little Jackdaw!