"This night our cat ranne crying from one side of the ship to the
other, looking overboord, which made us to wonder; but we saw
nothing."
--_Juet's Journal._
What did you see, O pussy-cat-mew,
Pet of the _Half-Moon's_ turbulent crew?
Who taught them mew-tiny? Wasn't it you?
Juet kept journal of storm and fog
And the mermaid that set them all agog,
But what has become of the cat-a-log?
Henry Hudson, the master sage,
Writ large his name on history's page,
But you, you too, were a purr-sonage.
Shall the tale slight you, whose tail was a-quiver
As you and Hudson sailed up the river
Made only his by Time the giver?
Why did you take to adventuring,
Puss-illanimous fireside thing?
What was the cargo you hoped to bring?
Did you dream of multitudinous mice
Running about the Isles of Spice
In a paradoxical Paradise?
Were you not homesick where monsters swam,
Dolorous dolphin and clamorous clam,
For your sunny stoop in Amsterdam?
Months at sea, while the billows roared,
And the Milky Way not a cupful poured;
No wonder Tabby looked over-bored.
You had your feelin's, as felines go,
Poor little puss. What scared you so?
O stupid sailors that didn't know!
Was it a dogfish struck the spark
From your sea-green eyes with the quaint remark
That you were sailing upon a bark?
Millions of happy pussies fall
Into oblivion; still you call
From the top of your ancient cater-wall,
Call on the centuries to concur
In praise of Tabby the Mariner,
Who discovered the Catskills, named for her.