To sum up all, I'm old -- and that's A fact the years decide;It is a common thing with cats And not a thing to hide.
But to feel what it is -- how kind How true to love and lawFor this you must be quite resigned And not avoid its paw.
It does not come as reckless foe A shrinking prey to take,But with soft footstep that we know By comfort in its wake.
Though it spoils something -- that is true, Which we must learn to lackAnd takes alike from me and you What never does come back.
It caters for our failing strength In many a dainty scrap,And gently lays us at our length In some secluded lap.
It may bless you -- (I think it should) Beyond what I make out,With things perhaps too great and good For cats to talk about.
Since I find in it blessing free From all it can destroy,And so its progress is to me A miracle of joy.
But my look out to occupy And make the most of that.You must be quite as old as I, If not yourself a Cat!
