by Alexander Gray
He blinks upon the hearth-rug,
And yawns in deep content,
Accepting all the comforts
That Prodvidence has sent.
Louder he purrs and louder,
In one glad hymn of praise
For all the night's adventures,
For quiet, restful days.
Life will go on forever,
With all that cat can wish;
Warmth, and the glad procession
Of fish and milk and fish.
Only- the thought disturbs him-
He's noticed once or twice,
That times are somehow breeding
A nimbler race of mice!
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