And find, time flies with rapid wing:
A friend (I seek not to deceive)
I may, perchance, to others be;
But, ah! my darling Puss! believe,
I purr, I only purr for thee!
Thy form is stamp'd upon that heart,
Which, true to thee, will beat till death;
Thy praises, dear one that thou art,
Will mingle with my latest breath.
Deign, then, to smile upon my suit,