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THE CAT:<br />
Arsinoe's Cats<br />
Arsinoe <strong>the</strong> fair, <strong>the</strong> amber-tressed,<br />
Is mine no more;<br />
Cold as <strong>the</strong> unsunned snows are is her breast,<br />
And closed her door.<br />
No more her ivory feet and tresses braided<br />
Make glad mine eyes;<br />
Snapt are my viol strings, my flowers are faded,<br />
My love-lamp dies.<br />
Yet, once, for dewy myrtle-buds and roses,<br />
All summer long,<br />
We searched <strong>the</strong> twilight-haunted garden closes<br />
With jest and song.<br />
Ay, all is over now,— my heart hath changed<br />
Its heaven for hell;<br />
And that ill chance which all our love estranged<br />
In this wise fell<br />
A little lion, small and dainty sweet,<br />
(For such <strong>the</strong>re be!)<br />
With sea-grey eyes and softly stepping feet,<br />
She prayed of me.<br />
For this, through lands Egyptian far away,<br />
She bade me pass:<br />
But, in an evil hour, I said her nay,<br />
And now, alas<br />
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