To a Cat

4 0 00

To a Cat

Cat! who hast pass’d thy grand climacteric,

How many mice and rats hast in thy days

Destroy’d?⁠—How many tit-bits stolen? Gaze

With those bright languid segments green, and prick

Those velvet ears⁠—but pr’ythee do not stick

Thy latent talons in me⁠—and upraise

Thy gentle mew⁠—and tell me all thy frays

Of fish and mice, and rats and tender chick:

Nay, look not down, nor lick thy dainty wrists

For all the wheezy asthma,⁠—and for all

Thy tail’s tip is nick’d off⁠—and though the fists

Of many a maid has given thee many a maul,

Still is that fur as soft as when the lists

In youth thou enter’dst on glass-bottled wall.