To a Cat

Cat! who hast pass’d thy grand climacteric,
  How many mice and rats hast in thy days
  Destroy’d?⁠—How many tit-bits stolen? Gaze
With those bright languid segments green, and prick
Those velvet ears⁠—but pr’ythee do not stick
  Thy latent talons in me⁠—and upraise
  Thy gentle mew⁠—and tell me all thy frays
Of fish and mice, and rats and tender chick:
Nay, look not down, nor lick thy dainty wrists
  For all the wheezy asthma,⁠—and for all
Thy tail’s tip is nick’d off⁠—and though the fists
  Of many a maid has given thee many a maul,
Still is that fur as soft as when the lists
  In youth thou enter’dst on glass-bottled wall.