 | The select poems of Dr. Thomas Dunn English (exclusive of the "Battle lyrics") |  |
496
THOMAS AND I.
Seated alone on the Smyrna mat,
Washing your face with your paw, and all that,
You have little to worry your mind, my cat.
Washing your face with your paw, and all that,
You have little to worry your mind, my cat.
You are furred in grey, and along your back
Is a stripe of glossy, satiny black,
While trousers of white you never lack.
Is a stripe of glossy, satiny black,
While trousers of white you never lack.
Your claws like sickles are curved and keen;
Your paws are muscular, hard and lean;
Your eyes are a beautiful yellow and green.
Your paws are muscular, hard and lean;
Your eyes are a beautiful yellow and green.
Your motions are filled with a lissom grace,
And you have a sober, reflective face,
Where naught of the demon within we trace.
And you have a sober, reflective face,
Where naught of the demon within we trace.
When you've licked your fur, you have brushed your coat;
You have never to meet a thirty days' note,
Nor have you your purring to learn by note.
You have never to meet a thirty days' note,
Nor have you your purring to learn by note.
Down in the cellar are mice at need;
You have no wife and weans to feed;
And yours is a very good life indeed.
You have no wife and weans to feed;
And yours is a very good life indeed.
And yet of trouble you must have some;
And your voice on the matter is nowise dumb:
It is eight, and the milkman hasn't come.
And your voice on the matter is nowise dumb:
It is eight, and the milkman hasn't come.
While you are waiting for milk a fill,
I sigh for the doctor to give me a pill—
A nasty one, as he surely will.
I sigh for the doctor to give me a pill—
A nasty one, as he surely will.
497
Some milk for you and a pill for me,
Your case much better than mine must be,
Since little relief from my pains I see.
Your case much better than mine must be,
Since little relief from my pains I see.
You will bid in a moment to care farewell,
For there is the milkman's fearful yell;
And, horror! the doctor is ringing the bell.
For there is the milkman's fearful yell;
And, horror! the doctor is ringing the bell.
I hear the door on the doctor close;
I feel disgust from lips to toes;
For he left this pill—well, down it goes!
I feel disgust from lips to toes;
For he left this pill—well, down it goes!
Oh! lucky Tom! whate'er your ills,
You never are forced to swallow pills,
And never are troubled with doctor's bills.
You never are forced to swallow pills,
And never are troubled with doctor's bills.
No! there you spread yourself on the mat,
And go to sleep there during our chat,
Luxurious, sybaritish cat!
And go to sleep there during our chat,
Luxurious, sybaritish cat!
You make reply in a sudden croon
By way of scoff; but, I tell you, soon
In a piteous way you'll change your tune.
By way of scoff; but, I tell you, soon
In a piteous way you'll change your tune.
You're growing apace—old, ten months nigh;
You'll travel at night time, by and by;
And then, my growler, the fur 'll fly.
You'll travel at night time, by and by;
And then, my growler, the fur 'll fly.
From back yards deep and fences tall
On sweet Maria you'll loudly call
With a loud, melodious caterwaul.
On sweet Maria you'll loudly call
With a loud, melodious caterwaul.
On the concert stage you'll make your bow,
Say in about two months from now,
With your sweet—“meow—rhr! fts! spts! meyeow!”
Say in about two months from now,
With your sweet—“meow—rhr! fts! spts! meyeow!”
498
But when you utter the silvery tones
Look out for bootjacks, bottles and stones
To bruise your flesh and batter your bones.
Look out for bootjacks, bottles and stones
To bruise your flesh and batter your bones.
And then as you crawl along half dead,
You'll wish you were human born and bred
And had to scribble perhaps for bread.
You'll wish you were human born and bred
And had to scribble perhaps for bread.
It is just the same with cats as men;
They'd like to be something else, and then
They would quickly wish to be cats again.
They'd like to be something else, and then
They would quickly wish to be cats again.
| The select poems of Dr. Thomas Dunn English (exclusive of the "Battle lyrics") | |