Lyrical LoT

[Prudence]

Sure to be in my head for weeks to come:


With cat-like tread,
Upon our prey we steal;
In silence dread,
Our cautious way we feel.
No sound at all,
We never speak a word,
A fly’s foot-fall
Would be distinctly heard.

Come, friends, who plough the sea,
Truce to navigation;
Take another station;
Let’s vary piracee
With a little burglaree!
With cat-like tread
Upon our prey we steal;
In silence dread
Our cautious way we feel.