Our Crocodile

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Our crocodile, (Psammarathis,A priest at Ombi, told me this,)Our crocodile is good and dear,And eats a damsel once a year.To me unworthy hath he doneThis favour three times -- one by oneThree daughters ate! I praise thereforeAnd honour him for evermore.Each Spring there is an exhibitionOf maidens, and a competition.The baffled fair are blank and spiteful,The victor's triumph most delightful.Three months secluded doth she dwellWith the high pontiff in his cell,Due-worshipping each deity,And Venus more especially.Then, on an island in the Nile,They take her to our crocodile,He wags his tail, the great jaws stir,And make a happy end of her.B a bo! O you brainless child!(My fourth, sir,) dirty, rude, and wild!You'll break my heart! you'll ne'er be meetFor any crocodile to eat!

© Garnett Richard