On the bank lay Cullen Bryant,
As the second moon arose,
Gouging on the sloping greensward
Some imaginary foes;
When the swamp began to tremble,
And the canes to rustle fast,
As though some stupendous body
Through their roots were crushing past.
And the waters boiled and bubbled,
And, in groups of twos and threes,
Several alligators bounded,
Smart as squirrels, up the trees.
Then a hideous head was lifted,
With such huge distended jaws,
That they might have held Goliath
Quite as well as Rufus Dawes.
Paws of elephantine thickness
Dragged its body from the bay,
And it glared at Cullen Bryant
In a most unpleasant way.
Then it writhed as if in torture,
And it staggered to and fro;
And its very shell was shaken
In the anguish of its throe:
And its cough grew loud and louder,
And its sob more husky thick!
For, indeed, it was apparent
That the beast was very sick.
