Sneaking from thence with silent tread
By night her family she fed,
But look’d out sharply all the day,
Affecting terror and dismay.
The Eagle lest the tree should fall,
Keeps to the boughs, nor stirs at all;
And anxious for her grunting race,
The Sow is loth to quit her place.
In short, they and their young ones starve,
And leave a prey for Puss to carve.