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النشر الإلكتروني

Thy joys no glitt'ring female meets,
No hive haft thou of hoarded fweets,
No painted plumage to display:

On hafty wings thy youth is flown;
Thy fun is fet, thy fpring is gone-
We frolic while 'tis May.

ODE

O D E

ON THE DEATH OF A

FAVOURITE CAT.

Drowned in a Tub of Gold Fishes.

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Where China's gayeft art had dy'd

The azure flowers, that blow;

Demureft of the tabby kind,

The penfive Selima reclin'd,

Gaz'd on the lake below.

Her confcious tail her joy declar'd;

The fair round face, the fnowy beard,

The velvet of her paws;

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Her coat, that with the tortoise vies,

Her ears of jet, and emerald eyes,
She faw; and purr'd applause.

Still had fhe gaz'd; but 'midft the tide
Two angel forms were feen to glide,

The Genii of the ftream:

Their fcaly armour's Tyrian hue,
Thro' richest purple to the view

Betray'd a golden gleam.

The haplefs nymph with wonder faw:

A whifker firft, and then a claw,

With many an ardent wish,

She ftretch'd, in vain, to reach the prize.
What female heart can gold defpife?

What cat's averfe to fish?

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