Classic Poem

Nor with less waste the whisker'd vermin race,
A countless clan, despoil the low-land cane.
These to destroy, while commerce hoists the sail,
Loose rocks abound, or tangling bushes bloom,
What planter knows?--Yet prudence may reduce.
Encourage then the breed of savage cats,
Nor kill the winding snake, thy foes they eat.
Thus, on the mangrove-banks of Guayaquil,
Child of the rocky desert, sea-like stream,
With studious care, the American preserves
The gallinazo, else that sea-like stream
(Whence Traffic pours her bounties on mankind)
Dread alligators would alone possess.
Thy foes, the teeth-fil'd Ibbos also love;
Nor thou their wayward appetite restrain.
Some place decoys, nor will they not avail,
Replete with roasted crabs, in every grove
These fell marauders gnaw; and pay their slaves
Some small reward for every captive foe.
So practise Gallia's sons; but Britons trust
In other wiles; and surer their success.
With Misnian arsenic, deleterious bane,
Pound up the ripe cassada's well-rasp'd root,
And form in pellets; these profusely spread
Round the cane-groves, where sculk the vermin breed:
They, greedy, and unweeting of the bait,
Crowd to the inviting cates, and swift devour
Their palatable death; for soon they seek
The neighbouring spring; and drink, and swell, and die.