Full many a heart, that now is free,
May shortly, fair one, beat for thee,
And court thy pleasing chain;
Then prudent hear a friend's advice,
And learn to guard, by conduct nice,
The conquests you shall gain

When Tabby Tom your Crop pursues,
How many a bite and many a bruise
The amorous Swain endures?
Ere yet one favouring glance he catch,
What frequent squalls, how many a scratch
His tenderness procures?

Tho' this, 'tis own'd, be somewhat rude,
And Puss by nature be a prude,
Yet hence you may improve,
By decent pride and dint of scoff
Keep caterwauling coxcombs off,
And ward th' attacks of love.

Your Crop a mousing when you see
She teaches you aeconomy
That makes the pot to boil:
And when she plays with what she gains,
She shews you pleasure springs from pains,
And mirth's the fruit of toil.