On Mrs. Roach and his loved family.
He remembered with grief that their larder was bare,
And young roaches he knew could not live upon air.
Ah! do you human beings think what you’re about
When you fill up the cracks, and the old roaches out?
And poor Mrs. Roach sat sobbing at home,
Dreading that to her sposa some evil had come,
And the poor little young ones lay tumbling about,
Grieving much for their father who stayed so long out.
“At last,” quoth the eldest, “dear mother, I’ll go