The Cat of St. Ives (Part IV)

Our growing moan a lofty growl,
that would become a clashing howl
enforcing them to soon renounce,
as they came forth and we did pounce,
their hold on Truro ere the end
of night when we their flesh did rend
with fang and claw and shaken head
and many bodies fell down dead,
of ours and theirs, but we were true
and in the scores the rats we slew
until the dawn above the sea
showed to us the rats aflee.
But as we sat to count the cost
we realised the town was lost.
I tried to tend my sund'red flanks
and too extend the many thanks
obliged onto the feline hoard
who stood beside me on the board
of Truro's dock throughout the night
when finally we'd brought the fight.
Too late the rat was put to flight.
Despite my effort all the blood
still left me just like murine flood
without the bounds of Truro's lanes.
I felt the growing battle pains
and settled down to rest a mite,
then realised the fading light
as all my strength it passed away
as fateful night turned fatal day.