An Appeal to Cats in the business of Love,
Ye Cats that at midnight spit love at each other,
Who best feel the pangs of a passionate Lover,
I appeal to your scratches, and your tattered furr,
If the business of Love be no more than to Purr.
Old Lady Grimalkin with her Gooseberry eyes,
Knew something when a Kitten, for why she was wise;
You find by experience the Love fit's soon o'r,
Puss! Puss! lasts not long.but turns to Cat-whore.
Men ride many Miles,
Cats tread many Tiles,
Both hazard their necks in the Fray,
Only Cats, when they fall
From a House, or a Wall,
Keep their feet, mount their Tails, and away.
-- Thomas Flatman, Poems and Songs (London: Printed for Benjamin Tooke, 1686), p. 122.