The Poet ~ Thomas Gray was born on 26 December 1716 and passed away on 30 July 1771. His mother was a milliner (a designer and creator of headwear such as hats and other head accessories). He was a very self-critical writer who published only 13 poems in his lifetime, despite being very popular. He was the fifth of 12 children, and sadly he was the only one to survive infancy.
Our Reader ~ Samantha Hayes is a prominent New Zealand journalist and long-time news anchor. Born in Pietermaritzburg, South Africa, she came to Milton, Otago as an infant and later earned a BA in Media Studies and International Relations. Sam began her media career at 17 and quickly rose through the ranks, becoming New Zealand’s youngest-ever newsreader at age 23, and today continues her legacy of trusted, empathetic journalism. Sam is an Ambassador for charity Riding for the Disabled, and she still loves spending time at her Aunt’s farm in Waitahuna amongst the horses, hills and hay.
Ode on the Death of a Favourite Cat Drowned in a Tub of Goldfishes
’Twas on a lofty vase’s side,
Where China’s gayest art had dyed
The azure flowers that blow;
Demurest of the tabby kind,
The pensive Selima, reclined,
Gazed on the lake below.
Her conscious tail her joy declared;
The fair round face, the snowy beard,
The velvet of her paws,
Her coat, that with the tortoise vies,
Her ears of jet, and emerald eyes,
She saw; and purred applause.
Still had she gazed; but ’midst the tide
Two angel forms were seen to glide,
The genii of the stream;
Their scaly armour’s Tyrian hue
Through richest purple to the view
Betrayed a golden gleam.
The hapless nymph with wonder saw;
A whisker first and then a claw,
With many an ardent wish,
She stretched in vain to reach the prize.
What female heart can gold despise?
What cat’s averse to fish?
Presumptuous maid! with looks intent
Again she stretch’d, again she bent,
Nor knew the gulf between.
(Malignant Fate sat by, and smiled)
The slippery verge her feet beguiled,
She tumbled headlong in.
Eight times emerging from the flood
She mewed to every watery god,
Some speedy aid to send.
No dolphin came, no Nereid stirred;
Nor cruel Tom, nor Susan heard;
A Favourite has no friend!
From hence, ye beauties, undeceived,
Know, one false step is ne’er retrieved,
And be with caution bold.
Not all that tempts your wandering eyes
And heedless hearts, is lawful prize;
Nor all that glisters, gold.