v. c. clinton-baddeley - walter de la mare: five eyes lyrics
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in hans’ old mill his three black cats
watch the bins for the thieving rats
whisker and claw, they crouch in the night
their five eyes smouldering green and bright:
squeaks from the flour sacks, squeaks from where
the cold wind stirs on the empty stair
squeaking and scampering, everywhere
then down they pounce, now in, now out
at whisking tail, and sniffing snout;
while lean old hans he snores away
till peep of light at break of day;
then up he climbs to his creaking mill
out come his cats all grey with meal +
jekkel, and jessup, and one+eyed jill
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