The Robin Red-Breast and the Cat
By Ewan Clarke.
- One morn, when snows bestrew'd the ground,
- And frost each pool in fetters bound,
- A Robin pinch'd through hungers power,
- Made free t'approach a farmer's door,
- Nor bolts, nor bars his entrance stop'd;
- The door was open...in he hopp'd...
- He star'd around with vast surprise,
- The scene was new in Robin's eyes.
- He duck'd his head as who should say,
- God bless you, folks! this frosty day;
- Now bolder grown, he hopp'd around,
- And pick'd the crumbs from off the ground,
- His little crop soon fill'd with meat
- Kind Jenny crumbled as he eat.
- "Blest chance to lead me (Robin said)
- To where I'm warmed, to where I'm fed,
- May ne'er mischance this house molest,
- And may that kind be doubly blest,
- May pains, and sickness cease t'intrude,"
- The chirp'd a song of gratitude.
- Grimalkin heard the tempering air,
- And sly crept from beneath a chair;
- He lick'd his whiskers, fixed his eyes,
- And sprung upon his flutt'ring prize.
- Ah me ... ah me, what woes betide,
- Spare .. spare my life, poor Robin cry'd,
- Show mercy as thoud'dst mercy find,
- I ne'er harm'd Cat or Kitten kind.
- Let man's example by thy guide,
- Fool, so it is ... the Cat reply'd,
- Look around, and thou shalt view each day,
- Man making man his eager prey.
- The helpless, harmless, rest assur'd,
- Ne'er fail, like thee, to be devour'd.
- Thus spoke the Cat, with visage grim,
- Then tore the trembler limb from limb.
May 13, 1812. Norwich Courier 16(27): 4.