Page:First book of the Iliad; Battle of the frogs and mice; Hymn to the Delian Apollo; Bacchus, or, the Rovers; second book of the Iliad (IA firstbookofiliad00home).pdf/73

Toward the blue lake, sans sense, sans shield he fled,
But Marsh-pride smote Gnaw-bacon on the head.
Ill-fortuned king! fierce dash'd the stone—his brain
Stream'd from his nose, and dyed with blood the plain.
Then by brave Bog-trot bit sir Plump the dust;
But Lick-dish straight his spear through Bog-trot thrust,
Night seal'd his eyelids: then, with desperate clench,
Snuff-steam—thy foot did grim Gnaw-garlic wrench,
Dragg'd to the pool, there diving far beneath,
Choked thee fast fettered in the grasp of death.
Next Crumb-catch, battling for his slaughtered friends,
His spear-point sheer thro' grim Gnaw-garlic sends,
Unlet it probes his rent heart's inmost core,
Forward he falls, his soul seeks death's dark shore.
Clod-hopper spied him, and a lump of dung
Presenting straight betwixt his eyeballs flung,
Half blind seized Crumb-catch, gored with wrath and pain,
A monstrous stone, the burden of the plain,
And smote therewith Clod-hopper's knee—to wrack
Went the right thigh, he tumbled on his back:
Hoarse-croak, his friend to shield, 'gainst Crumb-catch flew;
The sharpened rush-reed pierced his navel thro',
And delved deep deep within;—he hauls it out,
Forth thro' the rent his gushing entrails spout.
This Cram-cake sees from off the river-bank,
And halts from fight, his brow looks sorely blank,
Then leaps the fosse from death's fierce grasp to steal:
—Next Crunch-crust wounds sir Puff-chops on the heel;