Classic Poem

Sure you are Tyger rightly named,
A savage never to be tamed,
Of disposition wild and rude;
Yes, monster of ingratitude,
Come forth, & answer for yourself;
What made you climb upon the shelf,
And with remorseless labour take
My next day's meal, my mutton steak?
Let all the world now judge between us;
Yes, you're a very fine Micaenas,
Thus with fresh hunger to reward
The verses of a hungry Bard!
Who, when you slept upon the dough,
(Dont shake your tail, tis true you know)
Stood forth your champion, and took
Your part against the angry cook?
But he no more your part will take
Since this is the return you make.
What could induce you, much I wonder,
To this audacious act of plunder?
'Twas not by hunger you were wrought
For you are better fed than taught.
Your little mistress sees to that,
She ne'er neglects her favourite cat.
It was not mere retaliation;
I never gave you provocation;
I ne'er purloined a bit of fat
From a cold boiled or roasted rat;
And can aver with conscience clear
I have not ate a mouse this year.
No, 'twas an act of wanton spite,
Or else of guttling appetite.
And now I have your crime depicted,
I hope that you stand self convicted;
And will not purr a single word
Untill your sentence you have heard.
I pardon this your first offence,
And trust you have a proper sense
Of sorrow, & bewail your guilt
And mourn the gravy you have spilt.
But should you hence forth ever more
Be caught within the pantry door,
You then to Corbet's shall be sent,
(Where for her crimes your sister went)
And he shall shoot you through the head,
And strip your skin off when you're dead,
And there your fur as soft as ermine,
Shall hang midst mean & vulgar vermin;
Midst stoats & weazels shall have place,
A lesson to the tabby race;
That future cats may warning take
Nor dare to steal a mutton steak.
Dec r 1812.