Celia’s an artful little slut;
Be fond, she’ll kiss, et cetera—but
She must have all her will;
For, do but rub her ’gainst the grain
Behold a storm, blow winds and rain,
Go bid the waves be still.

So, stroking puss’s velvet paws
How well the jade conceals her claws
And purs; but if at last
You hap to squeeze her somewhat hard,
She spits—her back up—prenez garde;
Good faith she has you fast.