Bring me to the blasted oak <br />That I, midnight upon the stroke, <br />(All find safety in the tomb.) <br />May call down curses on his head <br />Because of my dear Jack that's dead. <br />Coxcomb was the least he said: <br />The solid man and the coxcomb. <br /> <br />Nor was he Bishop when his ban <br />Banished Jack the Journeyman, <br />(All find safety in the tomb.) <br />Nor so much as parish priest, <br />Yet he, an old book in his fist, <br />Cried that we lived like beast and beast: <br />The solid man and the coxcomb. <br /> <br />The Bishop has a skin, God knows, <br />Wrinkled like the foot of a goose, <br />(All find safety in the tomb.) <br />Nor can he hide in holy black <br />The heron's hunch upon his back, <br />But a birch-tree stood my Jack: <br />The solid man and the coxcomb. <br /> <br />Jack had my virginity, <br />And bids me to the oak, for he <br />(all find safety in the tomb.) <br />Wanders out into the night <br />And there is shelter under it, <br />But should that other come, I spit: <br />The solid man and the coxcomb.<br /><br />William Butler Yeats<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/crazy-jane-and-the-bishop/
