TO A CAT

by: Hartley Coleridge (1796-1849)

ELLY, methinks, 'twixt thee and me

There is a kind of sympathy;

And could we interchange our nature, --

If I were cat, thou human creature, --

I should, like thee, be no great mouser,

And thou, like me, no great composer;

For, like thy plaintive mews, my muse

With villainous whine doth fate abuse,

Because it hath not made me sleek

As golden down on Cupid's cheek;

And yet thou canst upon the rug lie,

Stretch'd out like snail, or curl'd up snugly,

As if thou wert not lean or ugly;

And I, who in poetic flights

Sometimes complain of sleepless nights,

Regardless of the sun in heaven,

Am apt to doze till past eleven, --

The world would just the same go round

If I were hang'd and thou wert drown'd;

There is one difference, 'tis true, --

Thou dost not know it, and I do.

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