 | The Complete Works of James Whitcomb Riley |  |
830
THE BAT
I
Thou dread, uncanny thing,With fuzzy breast and leathern wing,
In mad, zigzagging flight,
Notching the dusk, and buffeting
The black cheeks of the night,
With grim delight!
II
What witch's hand unhaspsThy keen claw-cornered wings
From under the barn roof, and flings
Thee forth, with chattering gasps,
To scud the air,
And nip the ladybug, and tear
Her children's hearts out unaware?
III
The glowworm's glimmer, and the bright,Sad pulsings of the firefly's light,
Are banquet lights to thee.
O less than bird, and worse than beast,
Thou Devil's self, or brat, at least,
Grate not thy teeth at me!
| The Complete Works of James Whitcomb Riley | |