If no cold joint e’er lasts its second day,
While through the cupboard-shelf and pantry-vault
The hungry household cat is free to stray.
Can mild reproof, or anger’s hasty gust
Back to its dish the rabbit-pie restore?
Can master’s threats recall the flaky crust,
Or wipe the mopped-up beer from off the score?
Perhaps in some neglected spot is laid
A heart, well stuffed, brown from the kitchen fire,—
Meat, that to water hermit’s chops had made,