The following page is the original poem (text) of The Snail by Willam Cowper. Read the poem and follow the links for more information.
The Snail
The Snail, William Cowper
To grass, or leaf, or fruit, or wall
The snail sticks close, nor fears to fall
As if he grew there, house and all,
Together.
Within that house secure he hides
When danger imminent betides
Of storm, or other harm besides
Of weather.
Give but his horns the slightest touch,
His self-collecting pow’r is such,
He shrinks into his house with much
Displeasure.
Where’er he dwells, he dwells alone,
Except himself has chatells none,
Well satisfied to be his own
Whole treasure.
Thus, hermit-like, his life he leads,
Nor partner of his banquet needs,
And if he meets one, only feeds
The faster.
Who seeks him must be worse than blind,
(He and his house are so combined)
If, finding it, he fails to find
Its master.
Thank you for reading the poem. You can also read-
Sharing is caring. Share this poem with a friend and help him in his learning.