To A Cat

Cat! who has 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 prythee do not stick Thy latent talons in me - 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 have given thee many a maul, Still is thy fur as when the lists In youth thou enter'dst on glass-bottled wall.