76 THE SPARROW 



(not unsuggestive of Burns' s humour in his lament 

 for his pet yowe), detailed for us the mingled feelings 

 of an English Lesbia on a similar occasion. Her name 

 was Jane Scrope, and it was when she was a novice 

 of fifteen summers at Carowe Convent, in Norfolk, 

 that ' Gyb, our cat ' pounced upon her bird. Hence 

 ' the sorrow she did make for Philip's sake ' for that 

 was her name for her pet sparrow. Pleasant memories 170 

 mingled with her grief : 



It had a velvet cap, 



And would sit upon my lap ; 



And many times and oft 



Between my breasts soft. . . . 



Sometimes he would gasp 



When he saw a wasp; 



A fly or a gnat 



He would fly at that! . . . 



And when I said Phip, Phip, iso 



He would leap and skip 



And take me by the lip. 



Alas 1 it will me slo 



That Philip is gone me fro. 



Vengeance I ask, and cry 



By way of exclamation 



On all the whole nation 



Of cats, wild and tame: 



God send them sorrow and shame! 



That cat specially 190 



That slew so cruelly 



My little pretty sparrow 



That I brought up at Carow! 



It would not be difficult to get on the sparrow's 

 traces elsewhere, especially among the poets. But 

 History has one notable page marked with its little 



