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Cat Poetry

    To Mrs Reynold's Cat

    Cat! Who hast past 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 nicked off - and though the fists
    Of many a maid have given thee many a maul,
    Still is that fur as soft as when the lists
    In youth thou enter'dst on glass- bottled wall.

    John Keats 1818

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