Quizzes & Puzzles0 min ago
Poem about circumspection
3 Answers
a friend of mine has asked me if I know a poem that a lady who is now 95 and has alzeimers used to recite every Xmas about :"circumspection" as illustrated by a cat tip-toeing along a stone wall covered with shards of glass". The poem also begins with "me frens and countrymen, Tante, followed by a loud clearing of the throat.
Can anyone help or give any clues on this one please
Can anyone help or give any clues on this one please
Answers
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For more on marking an answer as the "Best Answer", please visit our FAQ.I've found this on a poetry website
Cat! who hast pass'd thy grand cliacteric,
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 have given thee many a mail,
Still is that fur as soft as when the lists
In youth thou enter'dst on glass bottled wall.
http://cw.caret.cam.ac.uk/letstalkxml-2/anon/c ommunities/Books!/thread69034031430882.xml
Cat! who hast pass'd thy grand cliacteric,
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 have given thee many a mail,
Still is that fur as soft as when the lists
In youth thou enter'dst on glass bottled wall.
http://cw.caret.cam.ac.uk/letstalkxml-2/anon/c ommunities/Books!/thread69034031430882.xml
It's called to Mrs. Reynold's Cat by John Keats
http://www.poetryconnection.net/poets/John_Kea ts/17009
That first link mis-spelt climacteric
http://www.poetryconnection.net/poets/John_Kea ts/17009
That first link mis-spelt climacteric
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