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Oh, poor kitty!
I'm enjoying your contributions--please keep them coming.
Here's a fave from Robert Burns. It's the third and last stanza from O, Were I on Parnassus Hill:
By night, by day, a-field, at hame,
The thoughts o' thee my breast inflame,
And ay I muse and sing thy name--
I only live to love thee.
Tho' I were doom'd to wander on,
Beyond the sea, beyond the sun,
Till my last weary sand was run,
Till then--and then--I'd love thee!
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