Verses on a Cat

A cat in distress, Nothing more, nor less; Good folks, I must faithfully tell ye, As I am a sinner, It waits for some dinner To stuff out its own little belly.

You would not easily guess All the modes of distress Which torture the tenants of earth; And the various evils, Which like so many devils, Attend the poor souls from their birth.

Some a living require, And others desire An old fellow out of the way; And which is the best I leave to be guessed, For I cannot pretend to say.

One wants society, Another variety, Others a tranquil life; Some want food, Others, as good, Only want a wife.

But this poor little cat Only wanted a rat, To stuff out its own little maw; And it were as good SOME people had such food, To make them HOLD THEIR JAW!