Wetting thy reluctant feet,
To gain a dainty piece of meat,
Knowing that stolen food is sweet.
Gazing with ensnaring glance,
On the pigeon’s swift advance,
Which by thy look thou dost entrance.
Oh, why pause with indecision,
When the young bird before thy vision
Beckons thee on to meals Elysian?
Hearest thou sounds beneath the floor?