In silence some days Polly brooded, from grief; The oilman’s bereft of his wits, to be brief. He plucked at his beard; he heaved a deep sigh; “Alas!” then, he shrieked out, “day’s darkened on high 10 My hand, would it withered had, ere I’d struck Poll; I’ve silenced her prattle that always was droll!” His alms now he showers on each passing scamp, In hopes Poll her chatter ’d get back by some tramp. Three days and three nights in this guise did he pass, Despair at his heart, like a lorn lovesick lass; Incessantly sobbing and sighing, his word Was: “Pray now, will speech e’er return to my bird?” A bare-headed mendicant happened to pass; Whose scalp was close shaved, smooth and shining as glass. 15 At once our Poll-parrot her silence forswore, Screamed after the mendicant: “Poor head! Sore! Sore! Old bald-pate! old bald-pate! What is it thou’st done? Upset some one’s oil jar? The oil is’t all gone?” The passers-by smiled all at Polly’s mistake, ’Tween bald-head and bare-head no diff’rence to make. So thou, my dear friend, think thyself not a saint; A quean to a queen bears resemblance, but faint. Mankind on this point in great error still stands; Th’ elect of the Lord are ignored on all hands. 20 The equals of prophets acknowledged they be; Of saints they’re the brethren, as all men agree. Fools say: “The elect are but human, you see; To eat and to sleep they’re constrained, just as we.” Through blindness they miss the real point of the strife, The diff’rence between them’s immense all through life. The wasp and the bee eat and drink from the fields; The one stings, the other sweet honey still yields. The deer of both sorts browse the same mountain’s side; The one gives rich musk; dung the other; go, hide. 25 The canes of two species in one land may grow; Quite empty that one; from this, sugar will flow. By thousands, examples of pairs thus are known, Which differ as much as does cheese from the moon. Our bread, in one case, turns to dirt in our meat; Another produces the mind, God’s own seat. His food the one man swells with envy and greed; By like means another gains virtue indeed. One soil is productive; one barren and salt; One angel’s in heaven; the other’s at fault. 30 In form, many pairs may appear as though one, Clear water is sometimes as hard as a stone. Excepting the taster by practice, who knows The wholesome from unwholesome water that flows?