Page:Anthology of Magazine Verse (1921).djvu/176

This page has been proofread, but needs to be validated.
Pillowed on pulseless fortitude,Drowsy . . . .Beneath my pain.
The MeasureLeonora Speyer


THE PET
Hope gnawed at my heart like a hungry rat,Ran in and out of my dreams high-walled,I heard its scampering feet:"Pretty rat—pretty rat—!" I called,
And crumbled it songs to eat.Hope peeped at me from behind my dreams,Nibbled the crumbs of my melodies,Grew tame and sleek and fat;
Oh but my heart knew easeTo feel the teeth of my rat!Then came a night—and then a day—I heard soft feet that scuttled away—
Rats leave the sinking ship, they say.
The BookmanLeonora Speyer

161

This article is issued from Wikisource. The text is available under Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 4.0 unless otherwise noted. Additional terms may apply for the media files.