A poem from Geoffrey's memorial service
THE
SINGING CAT
By
Stevie Smith
It
was a little captive cat
Upon
a crowded train
His
mistress takes him from his box
To
ease his fretful pain.
She
holds him tight upon her knee
The graceful animal
And
all the people look at him
He is so beautiful.
But
oh he pricks and oh he prods
And turns upon her knee
Then
lifteth up his innocent voice
In plaintive melody.
He
lifteth up his innocent voice
He lifteth up, he singeth
And
to each human countenance
A smile of grace he bringeth.
He
lifteth up his innocent paw
Upon her breast he clingeth
And
everybody cries, Behold
The cat, the cat that singeth.
He
lifteth up his innocent voice
He lifteth up, he singeth
And
all the people warm themselves
In the love his beauty bringeth.
Published
with permission of Faber & Faber Ltd