Come nestle on my knee and let my fingers roam
In the warm glossy fur that clotheth thee.
Half closed, now thou hast ended that long yawn,
Thine emerald eye, half scornful its caress,
Thine emerald eye, gleaming with golden rays
That idly kind, yet mocking o’er me plays.
Philosopher, old brother, thou hast not known
The faithful, noisy friendship of the dog,
Yet my heart feels the love that thou hast shown.
Thy clear seeing, perhaps ephemeral affection,