His frisking was at evening hours,

For then he lost his fear,

But most before approaching showers,

Or when a storm drew near.

Eight years and five round-rolling moons

He thus saw steal away,

Dozing out all his idle noons,

And every night at play.

I kept him for his humour's sake,

For he would oft beguile

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My heart of thoughts that made it ache, 35
And force me to a smile.

But now beneath this walnut shade

He finds his long last home,

And waits, in snug concealment laid,

Till gentler Puss shall come.

He, still more agèd, feels the shocks

From which no care can save,
And, partner once of Tiney's box,
Must soon partake his grave.

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REPORT OF AN ADJUDGED CASE.

NOT TO BE FOUND IN ANY OF THE BOOKS.

BETWEEN Nose and Eyes a strange contest arose,
The spectacles set them unhappily wrong;
The point in dispute was, as all the world knows,
To which the said spectacles ought to belong.

So Tongue was the lawyer, and argued the cause

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With a great deal of skill, and a wig full of learning; While Chief Baron Ear sat to balance the laws,

So famed for his talent in nicely discerning.

“In behalf of the Nose it will quickly appear,

And your lordship," he said, "will undoubtedly find, That the Nose has had spectacles always in wear, Which amounts to possession time out of mind.”

II

Then holding the spectacles up to the court-
"Your lordship observes they are made with a straddle,
As wide as the ridge of the Nose is; in short,
Designed to sit close to it, just like a saddle.

Again, would your lordship a moment suppose ('Tis a case that has happened, and may be again), That the visage or countenance had not a Nose,

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Pray who would, or who could, wear spectacles then?

"On the whole it appears, and my argument shows,
With a reasoning the court will never condemn,
That the spectacles plainly were made for the Nose,
And the Nose was as plainly intended for them."

Then shifting his side, as a lawyer knows how,
He pleaded again in behalf of the Eyes:
But what were his arguments few people know,
For the court did not think they were equally wise.

So his lordship decreed with a grave solemn tone,
Decisive and clear, without one if or but-
That, whenever the Nose put his spectacles on,

By daylight or candlelight-Eyes should be shut!

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THE NIGHTINGALE AND GLOW-WORM.

A NIGHTINGALE, that all day long
Had cheered the village with his song,
Nor yet at eve his note suspended,
Nor yet when eventide was ended,
Began to feel, as well he might,
The keen demands of appetite;
When, looking eagerly around,
He spied far off, upon the ground,
A something shining in the dark,
And knew the glow-worm by his spark;
So stooping down from hawthorn top,
He thought to put him in his crop.
The worm, aware of his intent,
Harangued him thus, right eloquent :-
"Did you admire my lamp," quoth he,

"As much as I your minstrelsy,
You would abhor to do me wrong,
As much as I to spoil your song;
For 'twas the self-same Power divine
Taught you to sing, and me to shine;
That you with music, I with light,
Might beautify and cheer the night."

The songster heard his short oration,
And, warbling out his approbation,
Released him, as my story tells,

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ΙΟ

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And found a supper somewhere else.

Hence jarring sectaries may learn

Their real interest to discern ;

That brother should not war with brother,

And worry and devour each other;

But sing and shine by sweet consent,
Till life's poor transient night is spent,
Respecting, in each other's case,

The gifts of nature and of grace.

Those Christians best deserve the name Who studiously make peace their aim; Peace both the duty and the prize

Of him that creeps and him that flies.

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THE RETIRED CAT.

A POET'S cat, sedate and grave
As poet well could wish to have,
Was much addicted to inquire

For nooks to which she might retire,
And where, secure as mouse in chink,
She might repose, or sit and think.

I know not where she caught the trick,—
Nature perhaps herself had cast her
In such a mould philosophique,

Or else she learned it of her master.
Sometimes ascending, debonair,
An apple-tree, or lofty pear,

Lodged with convenience in the fork,
She watched the gardener at his work;
Sometimes her ease and solace sought
In an old empty watering-pot;
There, wanting nothing save a fan
To seem some nymph in her sedan,
Apparelled in exactest sort,

And ready to be borne to court.

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ΙΟ

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But love of change, it seems, has place Not only in our wiser race;

Cats also feel, as well as we,

That passion's force, and so did she.
Her climbing, she began to find,
Exposed her too much to the wind,
And the old utensil of tin

Was cold and comfortless within:
She therefore wished instead of those
Some place of more serene repose,
Where neither cold might come, nor air
Too rudely wanton with her hair,

And sought it in the likeliest mode

Within her master's snug abode.

A drawer, it chanced, at bottom lined.
With linen of the softest kind,
With such as merchants introduce
From India, for the ladies' use—
A drawer impending o'er the rest,
Half open in the topmost chest,

Of depth enough, and none to spare,
Invited her to slumber there;
Puss with delight beyond expression
Surveyed the scene, and took possession.
Recumbent at her ease ere long,

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And lulled by her own humdrum song,
She left the cares of life behind,

And slept as she would sleep her last,
When in came, housewifely inclined,

The chambermaid, and shut it fast,

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By no malignity impelled,

But all unconscious whom it held.

Awakened by the shock, cried Puss,

"Was ever cat attended thus !