But a vile catchpoll dog, with cruel bite,
Like catling’s cut, her strength disabled quite;
Her caterwauling pierced the heavy air,
As cataphracts their arms through legions bear;
’Tis vain! as caterpillars drag away
Their lengths, like cattle after busy day,
She lingering died, nor left in kit kat the
Embodiment of this catastrophe.
NOVEMBER.
(The humorous lines of Hood are only applicable to the English climate, where the closing month of autumn is synonymous with fogs, long visages, and suicides.)