QUOUSQUE TANDEM, O CATILINE?

O YE feline brutes erotic, Is there not some strong narcotic, Some refined and rare hypnotic, Some potent spell, Soothing catnip, helleborus, Anything to still the chorus Of your piercing, wild, sonorous Nocturnal yell? Stirring wrath in souls pacific, Thwarting agents soporific, Blighting visions beatific With horrid din; Moving even spirits saintly To utter, almost, low and faintly, Words divided very scantly From words of sin! O ye brutes, my windows under, Me and sleep ye widely sunder. O for power, for once, to thunder Annihilation! O for boot-jacks half a hundred— O for hand that never blundered, Hurling, while the neighbors wondered, Pacification! O for catapults to smite ye! O let catalepsy blight ye! All catastrophes invite ye, Cataclysmal! Cataracts be on ye falling! Curse, concatenate, appalling, Stop your ghoulish caterwauling, Paroxysmal!