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The Cat’s Elegy
nea CAT'S ELEGY
By GELETT BURGESS
and
BURGES JOHNSON
Copyright } ; A.C. McCLURG & CO, i) 1913 Hit
Published March, 1913 fap)" . ‘i
f
i Wang
I
The ashman homeward wends his weary way
And leaves a trail of cinders round the block.
We OW fade the dingy fences on™? .§ sur sight, : And all the air is still, except, maybe, Where some street-organ, faintly through the night, Wafts “Holy City” and “The Bam-
> ’ a pF
VE that from yonder sparsely slated roof A moping Tom doth moan- ingly complain
(While other felines darkly hold
aloof)
That his Maria lucklessly was slain.
PM ENEATH the shade yon
- dying pear tree sheds,
#@ Where rest tomato cans on
. ashy heaps,
Where cast-off garments line the pansy beds,
The flattened form of poor Maria
sleeps. AT 7 yf
4 ra ‘ 4
Ferhat
in the morn,
The cook’s insistent, matuti- nal grouch,
The scissors grinder’s harsh and rau- cous horn
No more shall rouse her from her
weedy couch.
WOR her no more shall wave 7 the threatening broom, Or busy housewife scat her from the chair, No children run to chase her from
VII
hig estas est of her days, Or nightly studied, with her art in view,
The acoustic properties of alley-ways.
Vill
> FT did the predatory cur ; rejoice
s J To drive her, quivering, up
: this lonely tree;
How jocund did she raise nocturnal voice!
How cursed the lodgers, kept awake
at three!
Xx
“R&A Shae
All dread alike the catcher’s nimble shanks —
The public highways lead but to the pound.
XI
er, gaunt and lean;
Has filled this alley with his music rare;
Full many a cat is born to howl un- seen,
And waste his sweetness on the city
air.
a
POR you, ye proud, impute to ° him the sin, Who in his nightshirt did his window raise,
XIII
Maria’s voice provoked his latent lust For blood; she fell a victim to her art.
The Goddess Pasht have recognized as kin; Or ruled Kilkenny ere its glory waned.
Along the sequestered alley, where she raised
The nightly noisy tenor of her lay.
prey, That weird elusive being e’er could mark? Who has not raised his window in
XVII
ET on some pavement, soon “ or late, there lies
The cat who tortures slum- ber while she prowls;
While from the tomb the voice of Nature cries,
As some small urchin imitates her
howls.
XVIII
T Requies Cat, now that
, she is dead
p (Nine times she died, and
“ therefore quite deceased)
Approach and read (with friends to hold thy head)
This touching tribute to the
little beast.
EPITAPH
3 RE lies poor Puss, with ’ collar unbedight,
¥ ¥
Full-throated rose her swan song on the night,
And now the dust-heap claims her for its own.
: P
od Hy =a |
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