Relentless; nor can all the piercing cries
Of duckling, chick, or turkey, yet unfledg’d,
His heart obdurate move; instant he tears
Each trembling limb, devours the quivering flesh,
Nor leaves a remnant of the bloody feast,
Save a few fluttering feathers scatter’d round
(That, with their varied plumage, whilom deck’d
The slaughter’d prey), to tell the hapless tale.
Thus joyless do I spend those hours the sun
Illuminates; and, when the silver moon