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.