The day that I was christened-
 It's a hundred years, and more!-
A hag came and listened
 At the white church door,
A-hearing her that bore me
 And all my kith and kin
Considerately, for me,
 Renouncing sin.
While some gave me corals,
 And some gave me gold,
And porringers, with morals
 Agreeably scrolled,
The hag stood, buckled
 In a dim gray cloak;
Stood there and chuckled,
 Spat, and spoke:
"There's few enough in life'll
 Be needing my help,
But I've got a trifle
 For your fine young whelp.
I give her sadness,
 And the gift of pain,
The new-moon madness,
 And the love of rain."
And little good to lave me
 In their holy silver bowl
After what she gave me-
 Rest her soul!