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But scorning all these kindes,

I would become a Cat,

To combat with the creeping Mouse,

And scratch the screeking Rat.

"I would be present, aye,

And at my Ladie's call,

To gard her from the fearfull Mouse,

In Parlour and in Hall;

In Kitchen, for his Lyfe,

He should not shew his hed;

The Pease in Poke should lie untoucht

When shee were gone to Bed.

"The Mouse should stand in Feare,

So should the squeaking Rat;

All this would I doe if I were

Converted to a Cat."

It is grateful to find Pussy's courage and devotion so happily vindicated; but we cannot ignore the fact that this glowing tribute to the joys of war is addressed—not to the valorous cat the poet envies—but to the fair coward whom he loves. In the same spirit of delicate flattery, Prior inscribes some verses to "My Lord Buckhurst, Very young, Playing with a Cat," which begin

and which go on to implore the little lord never to prefer "so rash a prayer," lest the goddess of love,