THE CAT 



Firelight 



Musing, I sit on my cushioned settle, 



Facing the firelight's fitful shine; 

 Sings on the hob the simmering kettle, 



Songs that seem echoes of " auld lang syne." 



And close beside me the cat sits purring, 

 Warming her paws at the cheery gleam ; 



The flames keep flitting, and flicking, and whirring,- 

 My mind is lapped in a realm of dream. 



Heinrich Heine, 

 Translated by Sir Theodore Martin. 



14 



