Who shall tell the lady's grief when her cat was past relief? Who shall number the hot tears shed o'er her, belov'd for years? Who shall say the dark dismay which her dying caused that day?

Come ye Muses, one and all, come obedient to my call; come and mourn with tuneful breath each one for a separate death; and, while you in numbers sigh, I will sing her elegy.

Of a noble race she came, and Grimalkin was her name. Young and old full many a mouse felt the prowess of her house; weak and strong full many a rat cowered beneath her crushing pat; and the birds around the place shrank from her too-close embrace. But one night, reft of her strength, she lay down and died at length:

Lay a kitten by her side in whose life the mother died. Spare her life and lineage, guard her kitten's tender age, and that kitten's name as wide shall be known as hers that died. And whoever passes by the poor grave where Puss doth lie, softly, softly let him tread, nor disturb her narrow bed.