To Mrs. Reynolds’s Cat

 Cat! who hast passed thy grand climacteric, How many mice and rats hast in thy days Destroyed? How many tit-bits stolen? Gaze With those bright languid segments green, and prick Those velvet ears-but prithee do not stick Thy latent talons in me, and up-raise 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 thy 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 enteredst on glass-bottled wall.