Classic Poem

The Caracal see, high up in the tree,
The Lion beneath him is dining;
But, gorged with his prey, he marches away,
The relics to others resigning.

The Caracal now jumps down from the bough,
For blood is to him an elixir;
The gristle he gnaws, the tail and the paws,
And every bone he doth lick, Sir.

A Barbary Ape gets into a scrape,
By coming a little too near him;
'Twas very unsafe the creature to chafe,
Yet thus did he venture to jeer him.

Says he, ‘I am sure I ne'er could endure
To feed at the board of a patron;
And second-hand meat I never would eat,
Though hunting might cost me a great run.’

The Caracal stares, and frightfully glares;
Says he, ‘What you mention is true, Sir;
The thing you suggest shall soon be redrest,
I'll make a fresh meal upon you, Sir!’

With this he turns round, and soon with a bound
Is perched on the animal's back, Sir;
His blood he doth sup, he gobbles him up;
The Monkey pays dear for his clack, Sir.