The Poetry Corner

The Colubriad.

By William Cowper

Close by the threshold of a door naild fast Three kittens sat; each kitten lookd aghast. I, passing swift and inattentive by, At the three kittens cast a careless eye; Not much concernd to know what they did there; Not deeming kittens worth a poets care. But presently a loud and furious hiss Caused me to stop and to exclaim, Whats this? When lo! upon the threshold met my view With head erect, and eyes of fiery hue, A viper long as Count de Grasses queue. Forth from his head his forked tongue he throws, Darting it full against a kittens nose; Who, having never seen, in field or house, The like, sat still and silent as a mouse; Only projecting with attention due, Her whiskerd face, she asked him, Who are you? On to the hall went I, with pace not slow, But swift as lightning, for a long Dutch hoe: With which well armd I hastend to the spot, To find the viper, but I found him not. And, turning up the leaves and shrubs around, Found only that he was not to be found. But still the kittens, sitting as before, Sat watching close the bottom of the door. I hope, said I, the villain I would kill Has slippd between the door and the door-sill; And if I make despatch, and follow hard, No doubt but I shall find him in the yard: For long ere now it should have been rehearsed, Twas in the garden that I found him first. Een there I found him, there the full-grown cat, His head, with velvet paw, did gently pat; As curious as the kittens erst had been To learn what this phenomenon might mean. Filld with heroic ardour at the sight, And fearing every moment he would bite, And rob our household of our only cat That was of age to combat with a rat; With outstretchd hoe I slew him at the door, And taught him never to come there no more.