No more shalt thou, with each revolving day,
Expect the warm repast of milk and tea;
Nor when the balmy slumber I prolong,
Ascend the stairs, and wake me with thy tongue:
No more shall thy discerning nose descry
They sav'ry steams, that speak the dinner nigh.
Soon didst thou wake, and ev'ry cat assail,
Then, strutting, shake the honours of thy tail.
With look importunate, and begging face,
Scarce could he wait the tediousness of grace:
But that perform'd, he barks exulting round;
The cats are scar'd, the neighb'ring roofs resound.