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Cat Poetry

    The cat went here and there
    And the moon spun round like a top,
    And the nearest kin of the moon,
    The creeping cat, looked up.
    Black Minnaloushe stared at the moon,
    For, wander and wail as he would,
    The pure cold light in the sky
    Troubled his animal blood.
    Minnaloushe runs in the grass
    Lifting his delicate feet.
    Do you dance, Minnaloushe, do you dance?

    William Butler Yeats




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