THE CAT 



A passing scent could keenly wake 

 Thy eagerness for chop or steak, 

 Yet, Puss, how rarely didst thou break 

 The eighth commandment. 



Though brief thy life, a little span 

 Of days compared with that of man, 

 The time allotted to thee ran 



In smoother metre. 

 Now, with the warm earth o'er thy breast, 

 O wisest of thy kind, and best, 

 Forever mayst thou softly rest, 



In pace, Peter. 



Clinton Scollard. 



120 



