THE AFFECTION OF MICE.
Assist me, my Muse, while in verse I would tell
A tale, true as strange, and so mournful as well.
No words can depict it; all feeble my lays;
Such tender devotion strikes one with amaze.
In a trap which was set to catch mice in my house,
I had the misfortune to capture a mouse;
That mouse was a female, and she was with young;
Yet not hers, but her consort’s, the praise must be sung.
He knowing her state–that she’d soon have a brood,
And would need a warm nest, and must die without food–
Searched all through the house to find stuff for her bed,
And supplied as he could, the food on which she fed.
The straw, hair, and feathers to meet her desires
He brought to the trap, and she pulled through the wires.
Her couch being formed, soon the offspring appeared–
A numerous progeny, there to be reared;
While around her on every side there did lie
The bodies of those that of hunger did die–
And had long been dead, any person could tell
Who had eyes that would see, or a nose that could smell.
He only took care to provide for that one
By affection and instinct he knew was his own.
What wisdom was his! With attraction so strong,
He knew, if the life of his mate he’d prolong,
He must keep himself clear, and have full liberty;
That to enter the trap was for both them to die.
That the trap was neglected for months is quite clear,
From what it contained–what an odour was there!
’Tis pity I had not the power to save
The creatures, who all found a watery grave.
The servant–my house from such pests to deliver–
Remorselessly cast them all into the river.