Night-life
The useful and domestic cat
adorning the familial mat,
now at the fall of purple dusk
suffers a change, he sheds the husk
of civilisation, and returns
to his primeval self. he burns
with atavistic nomadry
and yearns to be abroad and free,
nor longer loves the household lars,
but only seeks the cruel stars . . .
Now he is in the pallid gleam
his fur unsleeks, his features seem
to assume a diabolical leer,
his eyes expand, he cocks an ear:
and all the urbanity of day
turns to an ardent lust for prey . . .
but when come dawn, with slaked desire
he sits again before the fire.A.S.J. Tessimond
