Napoleon The Little

How well I knew this stealthy wolf would howl
When in the eagle talons ta'en in air!
A-glow, I snatched thee from thy prey, fowl!
I held thee, abject conqueror, just where
All see the stigma of a fitting name
As deeply red as deeply black's thy shame!
And though thy matchless impudence may frame
Some mask of seeming courage, spite thy sneear
(And thou assurest sloth and skunk, 'It does not hurt!')
Thou feel'st it burning, in and in; and Fear
Says, 'None forget it till shall hide congenial dirt!'