Disaster

’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   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— 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,   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: 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!   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: 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,   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.