To Mrs. Reynolds's Cat
by John Keats

Cat! who hast pass'd thy grand climacteric, 
     How many mice and rats hast in thy days 
     Destroy'd? -- How many tidbits stolen? Gaze 
With those bright languid segments green, and prick 
Those velvet ears -- but pr'ythee do not stick 
     Thy latent talons in me -- and upraise 
     Thy gentle mew -- and tell me all thy frays 
Of fish and mice, and rats and tender chick. 
Nay, look not down, nor lick thy dainty wrists -- 
     For all the wheezy asthma, -- and for all 
Thy tail's tip is nick'd off -- and though the fists 
     Of many a maid have given thee many a maul, 
Still is that fur as soft as when the lists 
     In youth thou enter'dst on glass-bottled wall.