The man replied, no Woman no,
To the Island of Reeds I will not go,
I would not for any worldly thing
See the face of the Crocodile King.
Then lend me now your little boat,
And I will down the river float.
I tell thee that no worldly thing
Shall keep me from the Crocodile King.
The Woman she leapt into the boat,
And down the river alone did she float,
And fast with the stream the boat proceeds,
And now she is come to the Island of Reeds.
The King of the Crocodiles there was seen, He sat upon the eggs of his Queen,
And all around a numerous rout
The young Prince Crocodiles crawl'd about.
The Woman shook every limb with fear,
As she to the Crocodile King came near,
For never man without fear and awe
The face of his Crocodile Majesty saw.
She fell upon her bended knee,
And said, O King have pity on me,
For I have lost my darling child,
And that's the loss that makes me wild.
A Crocodile eat him for his food,
Now let me have the murderer's blood,
Let me have vengeance for my boy
The only thing that can give me joy.
I know that you Sire! never do wrong,
You have no tail so stiff and strong,
You have no tail to strike and slay,
But you have ears to hear what I say.
You have done well, the King replies,
And fix'd on her his little eyes;
Good Woman, yes you have done right,
But you have not described me quite.
I have no tail to strike and slay,
And I have ears to hear what you say;
I have teeth moreover as you may see,
And I will make a meal of thee.
Being elected to a College Fellowship.
Well, Gr-gg-n, did they judge for you, Your vacant intellect who knew
How innocent of knowledge;
Unfit for every scene of life,
For fear lest you should take a wife,
They sent you here to College.
Here you may study how to dine,
Consult who sells the best Port wine,
To make you brisk and mellow ;
Constant at Chapel and your glass,
Altho' a most egregious ass,
A very decent fellow.
Smooth lies your way of life before,
For you may eat and drink and snore,
And buy whate'er you preach;
And to the country late return,
Altho' you were too dull to learn,
Yet wise enough to teach.
This Story is related in L' Esprit de la ligue.
That night when kingly fraud and priestly rage
The blood of unresisting thousands spilt,
That night whose horrors form the blackest page
In the black history of human guilt,
Regnier, a Hugonot, in Paris woke,
Rous'd by the murderer's yell, the victims cry, The wretched man expects the assassin's stroke, And pours a faltering prayer, prepared to die.
They come-they come-he hears the approaching sound!
His fears already feel the mortal blow;
His doors are burst, their torches flare around,
He raised his eyes, and knew his deadliest foe.
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