In December 1865, the following poem went the rounds of northern newspapers.It was often, though not always, attributed to the editor of the
Monuezuma Republican (Iowa). As a Poe fan, I think it's quite brilliant:
The other night, while we lay musing, and our brain confusing
O’er the topics of the day,
Suddenly we heard a rattling, as of mighty hosts a-battling,
As they mingled in the fray. “What is that?” we cried, upstarting,
Slap! We ran against the door.
“Oh, ‘tis nothing,” Edward grumbled, as o’er a huge arm-chair we stumbled,
‘Tis a bug, and nothing more.”
Then, said we, our anger rising, (for we thought it so surprising --
That a bug should thus offend)
“Do you think a small insect, sir, thus would all the air infect, sir?
No, ‘tis not a bug, my friend.”
Now, becoming sorely frightened, ‘round our waist our pants we tightened,
And put on coat and hat --
When into the darkness peering, we saw with trembling and much fearing,
The glaring eyes of Thomas Cat, Esq.
With astonishment and wonder we gazed upon this son of thunder,
As he sat upon the floor. --
When, resolution taking, and a rapid movement making,
Lo, we opened wide the door. --
"Now clear out!" we hoarsely shouted, as o'er head our boot we flouted,
"Take your presence from my floor!"
Then with air and mein majestic, this dear creature called domestic
Made his exit through the door.
Made he his exit without growling, neither was his voice a-yowling,
Not a single word he said.
And with feeling much elated, to escape a doom so fated,
We went back to bed.