Coyote! Coyote! Howling Bright

Coyote! Coyote! Howling bright,
In the Deserts of The night,
What Immortal Hand or eye
Could frame thy fearful folly?

In what distant deeps or skies
Burnt the laughter in thine eyes?
On what wings dare he aspire?
What the hand dare frame thy mirth?

And what shoulder and what art
Could elongate the nostrils of thy snout?
And when thy heart began to beat,
What dread hand did tickle your feet?

What the hammer? what the chain?
In what furnace was thy brain? (good question)
What the anvil? What blind grin?
Cannot its deadly errors grasp, or rhyme?

When the stars threw down their spears,
And water'd heaven with their tears,
Did He smile His work to see?
Did He who made the lamb make Coyote?

Coyote! Coyote! howling bright
In the deserts of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Didst frame thy fearful wisdom?