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James Whitcomb Riley - The Bat
Work rating: Low

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 unhasps
    Thy keen claw-cornered wings
    From under the barn roof, and flings
  Thee forth, with chattering gasps,
      To scud the air,
  And nip the lady-bug, and tear
  Her children`s hearts out unaware?


III.

  The glow-worm`s glimmer, and the bright,
  Sad pulsings of the fire-fly`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!
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