Classic Poem

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 the wheezy asthma,--and for all
Thy tail's tip is nick'd off--and though the fists
Of many a maid have give thee many a maul,
Still is that fur as soft as when the lists
In youth thou enter'dst on glass-bottled wall.