What the Gray Cat Sings

[aesopian]

by Arthur Guiterman



The Cat was once a weaver,
A weaver, a weaver,
An old and withered weaver
Who labored late and long;
And while she made the shuttle hum
And wove the weft and clipped the thrum,
Beside the loom with droning drum
She sang the weaving song:
"Pr-rrum, pr-rrum,
Thr-ree thr-reads in the thr-rum,
Pr-rrum!"

The Cat's no more a weaver,
A weaver, a weaver,
An old and wrinkled weaver,
For though she did no wrong,
A witch hath changed the shape of her
That dwindled down and clothed in fur
Beside the hearth with droning purr
She thrums her weaving song:
"Pr-rrum, pr-rrum,
Thr-ree thr-reads in the thr-rum,
Pr-rrum!"