62
POEMS.
For that's a favourite sport to climb
The garden's pinnacle sublime
Oh! he's a creature full of whims,
My frisky Sims.
The garden's pinnacle sublime
Oh! he's a creature full of whims,
My frisky Sims.
Some gentlemanly traits he owns,
He never quarrels over bones;
Though ofttimes bones with him I'll pick
He only gives back purr and lick.
With tact his nature over-brims,
So wise is Sims!
He never quarrels over bones;
Though ofttimes bones with him I'll pick
He only gives back purr and lick.
With tact his nature over-brims,
So wise is Sims!
They say cats know but cupboard love,
But that's not true, I dare to prove;
No thief is he—such petty pelf
Is far removed from his dear self.
Faithful and trustworthy is Sims,
Though full of whims.
But that's not true, I dare to prove;
No thief is he—such petty pelf
Is far removed from his dear self.
Faithful and trustworthy is Sims,
Though full of whims.
He has one fault (if fault it be),
He cares not for society;
Of strangers he is very shy,
He looks at them with half-shut eye,
And, as a bird that from us skims,
Away flies Sims.
He cares not for society;
Of strangers he is very shy,
He looks at them with half-shut eye,
And, as a bird that from us skims,
Away flies Sims.
No squaller on the house-top he,
He rests at night most peacefully
By "Prima Donna," in the hay,
For neither turn the night to day.
And so we pardon all his whims,
For he is Sims!
He rests at night most peacefully
By "Prima Donna," in the hay,
For neither turn the night to day.
And so we pardon all his whims,
For he is Sims!
