The Vagabond and Other Poems from Punch by R. C. Lehmann
page 46 of 84 (54%)
page 46 of 84 (54%)
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And all, in fact, is planned--and that's
Its great delight--to please the cats. Yet sometimes, too, your placid mind Will turn to those you've left behind, And most to one who sheds her tears, The mistress of your later years, Who sheds her tears to summon back Her faithful cat, the white-and-black. Fluffy, full well you understood The frequent joys of motherhood-- To lick, from pointed tail to nape, The mewing litter into shape; To show, with pride that condescends, Your offspring to your human friends, And all our sympathy to win For every kit tucked snugly in. In your familiar garden ground We've raised a tributary mound, And passing by it we recite Your merits and your praise aright. "Here lies," we say, "from care released A faithful, furry, friendly beast. Responsive to the lightest word, About these walks her purr was heard. Love she received, for much she earned, And much in kindness she returned. |
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