I Be My Help and Stay Secure

In my mind's eye i seem to see him pace about the weary moors, continually wandering about alone and silently. While i have these thoughts within myself pursued. He, having made a pause, the same discourse renewed. So again, he's not listening to the old man. But the old man continues to try and communicate through the haze of the poet's ego. And now we get to the last stanza: "I'll think of the leech gatherer on the lonely moor" I could have laughed myself to scorn, to find in that decrepit man so firm a mind. God said, i be my help and stay secure. Stay as in the nown