Classic Poem

To-night I stood among roses
Watching the slow studding of the sky with stars.
The cat fawned upon me to play with him.
Poor little cat, you have only me,
Unless we add that delightful feather on the end of a whip.
I have flowers and the high green loveliness of an evening sky,
And I find them not worth your feather,
Since the earth happens to be round as an orange
And I am not possessed of seven league boots.