Page:Poems - Southey (1799) volume 2.djvu/233

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Out of the window! but 'tis worse than allTo worry the poor beasts so. Shame upon itThat in a Christian country they should letSuch creatures live!FATHER.And when there's such plain proof!I did but threaten her because she robb'dOur hedge, and the next night there came a windThat made me shake to hear it in my bed!How came it that that storm unroofed my barn,And only mine in the parish? look at herAnd that's enough; she has it in her face—A pair of large dead eyes, rank in her head,Just like a corpse, and purs'd with wrinkles round,A nose and chin that scarce leave room betweenFor her lean fingers to squeeze in the snuff,And when she speaks! I'd sooner hear a ravenCroak at my door! she sits there, nose and kneesSmoak-dried and shrivell'd over a starved fire,With that black cat beside her, whose great eyes
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