Hope gnawed at my heart like a hungry rat,
Ran in and out of my dreams high-walled,
I heard its scampering feet: “Pretty rat— pretty rat—!” I called,
And crumbled it songs to eat.

Hope peeped at me from behind my dreams,
Nibbled the crumbs of my melodies,
Grew tame and sleek and fat:
Oh, but my heart knew ease
To feel the teeth of my rat!

Then came a night — and then a day —
I heard soft feet that scuttled away —
Rats leave the sinking ship, they say.