He lies upon the ground,
While the unsated red one toward
The deacon made a bound.

Down from the bars where he was perched.
Aghast, the good man sprung,
And if you'd seen him go it, _then_,
You'd said that he was young.

Still after him with fury
The bull did rush and roar,
And was very near the deacon
When he reached the outer door.

Through kitchen and through parlor fine,
Breathless, the poor man flew,
And lo! the bull is at his heels
And in the parlor too.

A flight of stairs is all that's left
Between him and despair;
He springs to gain the top, and falls,
A sober deacon, there.

But to his ears terrific sounds
Rise from the room below--
Tables and glasses, chairs and all,
Crash, crash, together go!

Upon the wall a mirror hung,