112
what's o'clock
The need of it became an injury.
But Neron still must eat, and so he went
Wearily down the stair to get his food.
It was not easy eating with the rats
Swarming upon him, but Neron long ago
Had crawled about his loft and gathered in
Such bits of bars, and bolts, and wooden blocks
As workmen leave, and sitting there he shied
These craftily into the horde of rats
And kept them from him while he eat his meat.
And afterwards, filled for more cursing, he
Would fumble round and pick his weapons up,
Treasuring them with canny, careful count
Lest one among the number might be missed,
To serve him for another meal to-morrow.
So the days went, one pea-like to another,
The seasons unremarked, the years a loss.
No Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday were, for Neron,
Just when the light was there and when 'twas not,
But Neron still must eat, and so he went
Wearily down the stair to get his food.
It was not easy eating with the rats
Swarming upon him, but Neron long ago
Had crawled about his loft and gathered in
Such bits of bars, and bolts, and wooden blocks
As workmen leave, and sitting there he shied
These craftily into the horde of rats
And kept them from him while he eat his meat.
And afterwards, filled for more cursing, he
Would fumble round and pick his weapons up,
Treasuring them with canny, careful count
Lest one among the number might be missed,
To serve him for another meal to-morrow.
So the days went, one pea-like to another,
The seasons unremarked, the years a loss.
No Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday were, for Neron,
Just when the light was there and when 'twas not,
