That message his Polly had made, as his choice.
One bird of the flock, he saw, then took to quake,
Fell prone to the earth; no more breath seemed to take.
The merchant regret felt for what he had done,
Exclaiming: “Alas! The poor bird I’ve slain, lone!
That creature was surely related to Poll;
Two bodies; one soul; just as is magic doll.45
Why did I deliver that fatal message?
I’ve killed a collateral of Poll’s lineage!”
The tongue, by itself, acts just like flint and steel.