The fox and the cat as they travelled one day,
With moral discourses cut shorter on the way:
"'Tis great," says the fox, "to make justice our guide!"
"How godlike is mercy!" Grimalkin replied.
Whilst thus they proceeded, a wolf from the wood,
Impatient of hunger, and thirsting for blood,
Rushed forth--as he saw the dull shepherd asleep--
And seized for his supper an innocent sheep.
"In vain, wretched victim, for mercy you bleat;
When mutton's at hand," says the wolf, "I must eat."
Grimalkin's astonished--the fox stood aghast,
To see the fell beast at his bloody repast.
"What a wretch!" says the cat--"'tis the vilest of brutes;
Does he feed upon flesh when there's herbage and roots?"
Cries the fox, "While our oaks give us acorns so good,
What a tyrant is this to spill innocent blood!"
Well, onward they marched, and they moralised still.
Till they came where some poultry picked chaff by a mill.
Sly Reynard surveyed the them with gluttonous eyes,
And made, spite of morals, a pullet his prize!
A mouse, too, that chanced from her covert to stray,
The greedy Grimalkin secured as her prey!
A spider that sat in her web on the wall,
Perceived the poor victims, and pitied their fall;
She cried, "Of such murders how guiltless am I!"
So ran to regale on a new-taken fly!