A CAT I sing, of famous memory, Though @3cat@1achrestical my song may be; In a small garden @3cat@1acomb she lies, And @3cat@1aclysms fill her comrades' eyes; Borne on the air, the @3cat@1acoustic song Swells with her virtues' @3cat@1alogue along, No @3cat@1aplasm could lengthen out her years, Though mourning friends shed @3cat@1aracts of tears. Once loud and strong her @3cat@1echist-like voice It dwindled to a @3cat@1call's squeaking noise; Most @3cat@1egorical her virtues shone, By @3cat@1enation join'd each one to one; -- But a vile @3cat@1chpoll dog, with cruel bite, Like @3cat@1ling's cut, her strength disabled quite; Her @3cat@1erwauling pierced the heavy air, As @3cat@1aphracts their arms through legions bear; 'Tis vain! as @3cat@1erpillars drag away Their lengths, like @3cat@1tle after busy day, She ling'ring died, nor left in kit @3kat@1 the Embodyment of this @3cat@1astrophe. |