Head heaved high with hay

I once was but a straw filled head
Blown about by the wind.
I knew not where my error was
Nor ever if I’d sinned.

My folly was my wisdom,
And my wisdom was divine
I’d take each proverb I had heard
And quote it loud as mine!

I had a brilliant poem for
Those fools rich or poor
But a man who’s always right
A crowd will ne’er adore

So lacking all humility
And proudly I would say,
“I may be wrong; For after all,
My head’s heaved high with hay!”