O Happy Dogs Of England,

I Like To See Cats In Movement. A Galloping Cat Is A Fine Sight. See It Cross The Road In A Streak, Cursed By The Drivers Of Motor Cars And Buses, Dodging The Butcher's Bicycle, Coming Safe To The Kerb And Bellying Under Its Home Gate.

I Made Man With Too Many Faults. Yet I Love Him. And If He Wishes, I Have A Home Above For Him.

See The Cat At Love, Rolling With Its Sweetheart, Up And Over, With Shriek And Moan. But If A Person Comes By, They Break Away, Sit Separate Upon A Fence Washing Their Faces - And Might Never Have Met At All.

My Muse Sits Forlorn She Wishes She Had Not Been Born She Sits In The Cold No Word She Says Is Ever Told.

If There Wasn't Death, I Think You Couldn't Go On.