| |
| ’T WAS ever thus from childhood’s hour | |
| My fondest hopes would not decay: | |
| I never loved a tree or flower | |
| Which was the first to fade away! | |
| The garden, where I used to delve | 5 |
| Short-frocked, still yields me pinks in plenty; | |
| The pear-tree that I climbed at twelve, | |
| I see still blossoming, at twenty. | |
| |
| I never nursed a dear gazelle. | |
| But I was given a paroquet— | 10 |
| How I did nurse him if unwell! | |
| He ’s imbecile but lingers yet. | |
| He ’s green, with an enchanting tuft; | |
| He melts me with his small black eye: | |
| He ’d look inimitable stuffed, | 15 |
| And knows it—but he will not die! | |
| |
| I had a kitten—I was rich | |
| In pets—but all too soon my kitten | |
| Became a full-sized cat, by which | |
| I ’ve more than once been scratched and bitten: | 20 |
| And when for sleep her limbs she curled | |
| One day beside her untouched plateful, | |
| And glided calmly from the world, | |
| I freely own that I was grateful. | |
| |
| And then I bought a dog—a queen! | 25 |
| Ah, Tiny, dear departing pug! | |
| She lives, but she is past sixteen, | |
| And scarce can crawl across the rug. | |
| I loved her beautiful and kind; | |
| Delighted in her pert bow-wow: | 30 |
| But now she snaps if you don’t mind; | |
| ’T were lunacy to love her now. | |
| |
| I used to think, should e’er mishap | |
| Betide my crumple-visaged Ti, | |
| In shape of prowling thief, or trap, | 35 |
| Or coarse bull-terrier—I should die. | |
| But ah! disasters have their use; | |
| And life might e’en be too sunshiny: | |
| Nor would I make myself a goose, | |
| If some big dog should swallow Tiny. | 40 |
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