AH, WHO?
HO comes so damp by grass and
grave,
At ghastly twilight hour;
And bubbles forth his pois'nous
breath
On ev'ry shudd'ring flow'rî
Who dogs the houseless wanderer
Upon the wintry wold;
And kisses—with his frothy lips—
The clammy brow and cold?
Who, hideous, trails a slimy form,
Betwixt the moonlight pale;
And the pale, fearful, sleeping face?
Our little friend—the Snail.
