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Cats also feel, as well as we,
A draw'r, it chanc'd, at bottom lin'd
She left the cares of life behind,
When in came, housewifely inclin'd,
Awaken'd by the shock, cried Puss, • Was ever Cat attended thus ! • The open draw'r was left, I see, • Merely to prove a nest for me, • For soon as I was well compos’d, • Then came the maid, and it was clos'd. • How smooth these 'kerchiefs and how sweet! • Oh, what a delicate retreat! • I will resign myself to rest • Till Sol declining in the west • Shall call to supper, when no doubt, Susan will come and let me out.'
The evening came, the sun descended, And Puss remain'd still unattended. The night roll'd tardily away, (With her indeed 'twas never day) The sprightly morn her course renew'd, The evening grey again ensu'd, And Puss came into mind no more Than if entomb’d the day before. With hunger pinch’d, and pinch'd for room, She now presag'd approaching doom, Nor slept a single wink, nor purr'd, Conscious of jeopardy incurr'd.
That night, by chance, the poet watching, Heard an inexplicable scratching; His noble heart went pit-a-pat, And to himself he said—what's that?' He drew the curtain at his side, And forth he peep'd but nothing spied;
Yet, by his ear directed; guess'd
Forth skipp'd the Cat, not now replete
Beware of too sublime a sense Of your own worth and consequencé. The man who dreams himself so great, And his importance of such weight,
That all around, in all that's done,
In Scotland's realm, where trees are few;
Nor even shrubs abound;
Some better things are found ;
For Husband there and Wife may boast
Their union undefild,
As hedge-rows in the wild ;
In Scotland's realm forlorn and bare
The hist’ry chanc'd of late
A Chaffinch and his mate.
The spring drew near, each felt a breast
With genial instinct fillid; They pair’d, and would have built a nest,
But found not where to build.
The heaths uncover'd and the moors
Except with snow and sleet;
Could yield them no retreat.
Long time a breeding-place they sought,
But both grew vex'd and tir'd ; At length a ship arriving brought
The good so long desir’d.
A ship !--could such a restless thing
Afford them place of rest?
The homeless birds a nest ?
Hush-silent hearers profit most "
This racer of the sea
It serv'd them with a tree.
But such a tree ! 'twas shaven deal,
The tree they call a mast, And had a hollow with a wheel
Thro' which the tackle pass'd.