THE CAT; 



The Kitten and the Falling Leaves 



That way look, my infant, lo! 



What a pretty baby show ! 



See the kitten on the wall, 



Sporting with the leaves that fall, 



Withered leaves, — one — two — and three,- 



From the lofty elder-tree ! 



Through the calm and frosty air 



Of this morning bright and fair 



Eddying round and round they sink, 



Softly, slowly: one might think, 



From the motions that are made, 



Every little leaf convey'd 



Sylph or fairy hither tending, — 



To this lower world descending, 



Each invisible and mute, 



In his wavering parachute. 



But the kitten, how she starts, 

 Crouches, stretches, paws, and darts! 

 First at one, and then its fellow, 

 Just as light and just as yellow; 

 There are many now, — now one, — 

 Now they stop, and there are none. 

 What intenseness of desire 

 In her upward eye of fire! 

 With a tiger-leap half way 

 Now she meets the coming prey, 

 Lets it go as fast, and then 

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