Answers it with a plaintive low!
And the baron old, who is ill at rest,
Curses the favourite cat for a pest—
For let him pray, or let him weep,
She mews thro’ all the hours of sleep—
Till morning comes with its pleasant beams,
And the cat is at rest, and the baron dreams!
Let it rain, however fast,
Rest from rain will come at last,
And the blaze that strongest flashes