I 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. II 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. III 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. IV One wants society, Another variety, Others a tranquil life; Some want food, Others, as good, Only want a wife. V But this poor little cat Only wanted a rat, To stuff out its own little maw; And it were as good @3Some@1 people had such food, To make them @3hold their jaw!@1 | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE GOLDEN NET by WILLIAM BLAKE SONNET TO A FRIEND WHO ASKED, HOW I FELT ... MY INFANT TO ME by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE THE BUGLER'S FIRST COMMUNION by GERARD MANLEY HOPKINS A TRINITY OF MOTHERHOOD by FRED CLARE BALDWIN SPRING COURAGE by MADELINE BENEDICT AN IMITATION OF SPENCER by WILLIAM BLAKE |