Elegy on a Favourite Kitten

In soothing accents, come, my friend, The loss of Tibby, O deplore! But first with sympathy attend, While I her various charms run o'er.

Her snow-white skin, and clean round face; Her upright ears, and sparkling eyes: The fairest of the mousing race, Tibby, the younger Tibby, dies!

How pleas'd I view'd her turn a chip, Or gaily wanton with a straw; The while no mouse that out dar'd slip. Could e'er escape her nimble paw.

Did she not even mew with grace, And purr most musically sweet? And, O! how clean she wash'd her face, And wip'd it with her velvet feet!

What could induce the cruel Fates To snatch dear Tibby from my care! And leave the most delicious cates, For hungry rats and mice to share.