 | Poems on Several Occasions |  |
104
AN EPITAPH ON Isaac Bickerstaff's CAT.
Under This Stone poor Puskin sleeps;
The Mice rejoice, the Master weeps:
Freakish he was, and full of Play;
Prey'd all the Night; Purr'd all the Day.
The Mice rejoice, the Master weeps:
Freakish he was, and full of Play;
Prey'd all the Night; Purr'd all the Day.
Stop, Traveller! a sad Disaster
Is Puskin's Death to's loving Master;
But, I must say no more of That,
Lest Grief should kill Him, for his Cat.
Howe'er, to give them Both their Due,
Since Whittington, the World ne'er knew,
Cat e'er so Kind, Master so True.
Is Puskin's Death to's loving Master;
But, I must say no more of That,
Lest Grief should kill Him, for his Cat.
Howe'er, to give them Both their Due,
Since Whittington, the World ne'er knew,
Cat e'er so Kind, Master so True.
| Poems on Several Occasions | |