Verses on a Cat

A cat in distress,

Nothing more, nor less;

Good folks, I must faithfully tell ye,

As I am a sinner,

It waits for some dinner

To stuff out its own little belly.

You would not easily guess

All the modes of distress

Which torture the tenants of earth;

And the various evils,

Which like so many devils,

Attend the poor souls from their birth.

Some a living require,

And others desire

An old fellow out of the way;

And which is the best

I leave to be guessed,

For I cannot pretend to say.

One wants society,

Another variety,

Others a tranquil life;

Some want food,

Others, as good,

Only want a wife.

But this poor little cat

Only wanted a rat,

To stuff out its own little maw;

And it were as good

SOME people had such food,

To make them HOLD THEIR JAW!