Mr. Swinburne, within a few years, has written a charming poem
which was published in the _Athenaeum_, and which places the writer
among the select inner circle of true cat-lovers. He calls his verses--
TO A CAT
Stately, kindly, lordly friend,
Condescend
Here to sit by me, and turn
Glorious eyes that smile and burn,
Golden eyes, love's lustrous meed,
On the golden page I read.
* * * * *
Dogs may fawn on all and some
As they come:
You a friend of loftier mind,
Answer friends alone in kind.
Just your foot upon my hand
Softly bids it understand.
Thomas Gray's poem on the death of Robert Walpole's cat, which was
drowned in a bowl of goldfish, was greatly prized by the latter; after
the death of the poet the bowl was placed on a pedestal at Strawberry
Hill, with a few lines from the poem as an inscription. In a letter
dated March 1, 1747, accompanying it, Mr. Gray says:--
"As one ought to be particularly careful to avoid blunders in a
compliment of condolence, it would be a sensible satisfaction to me
(before I testify my sorrow and the sincere part I take in your
misfortune) to know for certain who it is I lament. [Note the 'Who.'] I
knew Zara and Selima (Selima was it, or Fatima?), or rather I knew them
both together, for I cannot justly say which was which. Then, as to your
handsome cat, the name you distinguish her by, I am no less at a loss,
as well knowing one's handsome cat is always the cat one likes best; or
if one be alive and the other dead, it is usually the latter that is the
handsomest.
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