William Stanley Braithwaite, ed. The Book of Georgian Verse. 1909.
On a Favourite Cat, Drowned in a Tub of Gold FishesThomas Gray (17161771)
’T
Where China’s gayest art had dyed
The azure flowers that blow;
Demurest of the tabby kind,
The pensive Selima reclined,
Gazed on the lake below.
The fair round face, the snowy beard,
The velvet of her paws,
Her coat, that with the tortoise vies,
Her ears of jet, and emerald eyes,
She saw; and purr’d applause.
Two angel forms were seen to glide,
The Genii of the stream:
Their scaly armour’s Tyrian hue
Thro’ richest purple to the view
Betrayed a golden gleam.
A whisker first and then a claw,
With many an ardent wish,
She stretch’d in vain to reach the prize.
What female heart can gold despise?
What cat’s averse to fish?
Again she stretch’d, again she bent,
Nor knew the gulf between.
(Malignant Fate sat by, and smiled)
The slippery verge her feet beguiled,
She tumbled headlong in.
She mew’d to every watery god,
Some speedy aid to send.
No Dolphin came, no Nereid stirr’d:
Nor cruel Tom, nor Susan heard.
A Favourite has no friend!
Know, one false step is ne’er retrieved,
And be with caution bold.
Not all that tempts your wandering eyes
And heedless hearts, is lawful prize;
Nor all, that glisters, gold.