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Page:The town down the river; a book of poems.djvu/52

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Take it away and eat it, and shoot rats.
Ha! there he comes. Your rat will never fail,
My punctual assassin, to prevail—
While he has power to crawl,
Or teeth to gnaw withal—
Where kings are caged. Why has a king no cats?
What!—
You say that I'll achieve it if I try?
Swallow it?—No, not I . . .
God, what a way to die!

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