The Rat Retired from the World

The sage Levantines have a tale / About a rat that weary grew / Of all the cares which life assail, / And to a Holland cheese withdrew. / His solitude was there profound, / Extending through his world so round. / Our hermit lived on that within; / And soon his industry had been / With claws and teeth so good, / That in his novel hermitage, / He had in store, for wants of age, / Both house and livelihood. / What more could any rat desire? / He grew fair, fat, and round. / 'God's blessings thus redound / To those who in His vows retire. '[1] / One day this personage devout, / Whose kindness none might doubt, / Was ask'd, by certain delegates / That came from Rat-United-States, / For some small aid, for they / To foreign parts were on their way, / For succour in the great cat-war. / Ratopolis beleaguer'd sore, / Their whole republic drain'd and poor, / No morsel in their scrips they bore. / Slight boon they craved, of succour sure / In days at utmost three or four. / 'My friends,' the hermit said, / 'To worldly things I'm dead. / How can a poor recluse / To such a mission be of use? / What can he do but pray / That God will aid it on its way? / And so, my friends, it is my prayer / That God will have you in his care. ' / His well-fed saintship said no more, / But in their faces shut the door. / What think you, reader, is the service / For which I use this niggard rat? / To paint a monk? No, but a dervise. / A monk, I think, however fat, / Must be more bountiful than that.

[1]: _God's blessing, &c_. -- So the rat himself professed to consider the matter. -- Translator.