Page:Poems by William Wordsworth (1815) Volume 1.djvu/342

282 But the Kitten, how she starts,

Crouches, stretches, paws, and darts!

First at one, and then its fellow

Just as light and just as yellow;

There are many now—now one—

Now they stop; and there are none—

What intenseness of desire

In her upward eye of fire!

With a tiger-leap half way

Now she meets the coming prey,

Lets it go as fast, and then

Has it in her power again:

Now she works with three or four,

Like an Indian Conjuror;

Quick as he in feats of art,

Far beyond in joy of heart.

Were her antics played in the eye

Of a thousand Standers-by,

Clapping hands with shout and stare,

What would little Tabby care

For the plaudits of the Crowd?

Over happy to be proud,

Over wealthy in the treasure

Of her own exceeding pleasure!