Normale Version: The Cat-Lady
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The Cat-Lady

Her hair is yellow as sulphur, and her gaze
As brimstone burning blue and odorous:
I know not how her eyes came to be thus
But I do think her soul must be ablaze:
Their pupils wane or wax to blame or praise;
As a cat watches mice, she watches us;
And I am sure her claws are murderous,
So feline are her velvet coaxing ways.
She purrs like a young leopard soothed and pleased
At flattery; so too turns and snarls when teased,
And pats her love like a beast of prey.
I fancy too that over wine and food
Her saffron hair turns tawny and grand her mood--
She broods like a young lioness of play.