Biscuit tin

by Philip Fortune

The sides of a biscuit tin so fine
Were decorated with art sublime,
Picturing a festival of prizes
Surrounded by ribbon-mazes

In one, a bird hung dead,
Its feathers pulled, a lifeless head.
Another showed a sporting dog
With frightened rabbit, all agog.

And next, what fun to see the gasp
Of that big one, hooked at last.
Beside it, showed the fox who ran
Not fast enough for the modern gun.

And the glamorous tin contained
Not meat, nor fish, nor fowl,
But a superfluous sugary cake
To sweeten the daily break.

Just look at that tin, if you can—
And the worst things done by man!