or the Battle of the FROGS and MICE.
3
Troxartes bade Psicharpax be my Name:
But fair Lichomyle, my Mother, springs
From Pternotroctes, once a King of Kings.
Nought for their Best-belov'd they deem'd too good;
Figs, Nuts, and Sweet-meats were my daily Food.
But since thy Nature differs so from mine,
How can I ever be a Friend of thine?
Thou in the Waters, I on Earth must live,
And share with Men what they refuse to give.
Mine is their finest Bread, their Tarts are mine,
I eat their Cheeses, and I drink their Wine;
In vain from me, conceal'd, their Bacon lies;
In vain their butter'd Buns and sugar'd Pies;
In vain their whitest Tripe and honey'd Cake,
And ev'ry luscious Bit the skilful Cook can make.
Nor am I startled, at its dire Alarms,
When Batttle bids me sheath my Limbs in Arms;
But forth I rush, unconscious then of Fear,
And with the foremost, flames my shining Spear;
Puss and the Hawk my Soul alike abhors;
Against our Kind they wage eternal Wars.
But fair Lichomyle, my Mother, springs
From Pternotroctes, once a King of Kings.
Nought for their Best-belov'd they deem'd too good;
Figs, Nuts, and Sweet-meats were my daily Food.
But since thy Nature differs so from mine,
How can I ever be a Friend of thine?
Thou in the Waters, I on Earth must live,
And share with Men what they refuse to give.
Mine is their finest Bread, their Tarts are mine,
I eat their Cheeses, and I drink their Wine;
In vain from me, conceal'd, their Bacon lies;
In vain their butter'd Buns and sugar'd Pies;
In vain their whitest Tripe and honey'd Cake,
And ev'ry luscious Bit the skilful Cook can make.
Nor am I startled, at its dire Alarms,
When Batttle bids me sheath my Limbs in Arms;
But forth I rush, unconscious then of Fear,
And with the foremost, flames my shining Spear;
Puss and the Hawk my Soul alike abhors;
Against our Kind they wage eternal Wars.
With
