To a Cat

Nelly, methinks, 'twixt thee and meThere is a kind of sympathy;And could we interchange our nature, --If I were cat, thou human creature, --I should, like thee, be no great mouser,And thou, like me, no great composer;For, like thy plaintive mews, my museWith villainous whine doth fate abuse,Because it hath not made me sleekAs golden down on Cupid's cheek;And yet thou canst upon the rug lie,Stretch'd out like snail, or curl'd up snugly,As if thou wert not lean or ugly;And I, who in poetic flightsSometimes complain of sleepless nights,Regardless of the sun in heaven,Am apt to doze till past eleven, --The world would just the same go roundIf I were hang'd and thou wert drown'd;There is one difference, 'tis true, --Thou dost not know it, and I do.