John Keats

To Mrs Reynolds’ 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 thy wheezy asthma - and for all
Thy tail’€™s tip is nick’€™d 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’€™dest on glass bottled wall.
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