The little children when I pass them run away to hide.

I have wake in the night and cry out in fear, it is so lonely.

I have hear voices round me in the woods, and I run and run and run from them, and not leave them behind.

Three times I go to the jails in Quebec to see the prisoners behind the bars, and watch the pains on their faces, to understand what I escape.

Five times have I go to the courts to listen to murderers tried, and watch them when the Jury say Guilty! and the Judge send them to death--that I might know.