Page:Poems of Anne Countess of Winchilsea 1903.djvu/337

COUNTESS OF WINCHILSEA ���199 ���I sooner would have kitten'd in the Road, �Than made this Place of Danger my abode. �I heard her young Ones lately cry for Pig, �And pity'd you, that were so near, and big. �In Friendship this I secretly reveal, �Lest Pettitoes shou'd make th' ensuing Meal; �Or else, perhaps, Yourself may be their aim, �For a Sow's Paps has been a Dish of Fame. �No more the sad, affrighted Mother hears, 80 �But overturning all with boist'rous Fears, �She from her helpless Young in haste departs, �Whilst Puss ascends, to practice farther Arts. �The Anti-chamber pass'd, she scratch'd the Door; �The Eagle, ne'er alarum'd so before, �Bids her come in, and look the Cause be great, �That makes her thus disturb the Royal Seat ; �Nor think, of Mice and Rats some pest'ring Tale �Shall, in excuse of Insolence, prevail. �Alas! my Gracious Lady, quoth the Cat, 40 �I think not of such Vermin; Mouse, or Rat �To me are tasteless grown ; nor dare I stir �To use my Phangs, or to expose my Fur. �A Foe intestine threatens all around, �And ev'n this lofty Structure will confound; �A Pestilential Sow, a meazl'd Pork �On the Foundation has been long at work, �Help'd by a Rabble, issu'd from her Womb, �Which she has foster' d in that lower Room; �Who now for Acorns are so madly bent, 50 �That soon this Tree must fall, for their Content. �I wou'd have fetch'd some for th' unruly Elves; �But 'tis the Mob's delight to help Themselves: �Whilst your high Brood must with the meanest drop, �And steeper be their Fall, as next the Top; ��� �