5
There stalks the tiger,—there the lion roars,
Who sometimes eats the luckless blackamoors;
All that he leaves of them the monster throws
To jackals, vultures, dogs, cats, kites and crows;
His hunger thus the forest monster gluts,
And then lies down 'neath trees called cocoa-nuts.
The lion hunt.
Quick issue out, with musket, torch, and brand,
The sturdy blackamoors, a dusky band!