Poems of Edward Thomas
|81.||The New House||12/31/2002|
|88.||This is No Case of Petty Right or Wrong||4/7/2010|
|92.||When First I Came Here||12/31/2002|
She had a name among the children;
But no one loved though someone owned
Her, locked her out of doors at bedtime
And had her kittens duly drowned.
In Spring, nevertheless, this cat
Ate blackbirds, thrushes, nightingales,
And birds of bright voice and plume and flight,
As well as scraps from neighbours’ pails.