I shoot the Hippopotamus
With bullets made of platinum,
Because if I use leaden ones
His hide is sure to flatten ’em.
(Hilaire Belloc)
More Poetry from Hilaire Belloc:
- Heroic Poem in Praise of Wine (Hilaire Belloc Poems)
- Lines to a Don (Hilaire Belloc Poems)
- The South Country (Hilaire Belloc Poems)
- Jim (Hilaire Belloc Poems)
- Matilda Who told Lies, and was Burned to Death (Hilaire Belloc Poems)
- To The Balliol Men Still In Africa (Hilaire Belloc Poems)