Thomas Gray's "Ode to the Death of a Favorite Cat Drowned in a Tub of Goldfishes"

The Daily Poem

Goldberry Studios

Education For Kids, Arts, Kids & Family

4.6 • 729 Ratings

🗓️ 25 September 2023

⏱️ 12 minutes

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Summary

Today’s poem is by Thomas Gray (26 December 1716 – 30 July 1771), an English poet, letter-writer, classical scholar, and fellow at Pembroke College, Cambridge. He is widely known for his Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard,published in 1751.[1]

Gray was a self-critical writer who published only 13 poems in his lifetime, despite being very popular. He was even offered the position of Poet Laureate in 1757 after the death of Colley Cibber, though he declined.[2] His writing is conventionally considered to be pre-Romantic but recent critical developments deny such teleological classification.

—Bio via Wikipedia

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Transcript

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0:00.0	Hello and welcome back to The Daily Poem, the podcast from Goldberry Studios.
0:04.9	I'm Sean Johnson, and today is Monday, September 25th, 2003.
0:10.9	Today's poem is by Thomas Gray, and it's called Ode on the Death of a Favorite Cat,
0:20.2	drowned in a tub of Goldfishes.
0:24.6	I'll read it once, offer a few comments, and then read it a second time.
0:31.2	Ode on the Death of a Favorite Cat, drowned in a tub of goldfishes.
0:37.0	T' was on a lofty vases side,
0:39.4	where China's gayest art had dyed the azure flowers that blow,
0:43.6	demurist of the tabby kind, the pensive salima reclined,
0:48.1	gazed on the lake below.
0:50.5	Her conscious tale, her joy declared,
0:53.8	the fair round face, the snowy beard, the velvet of her paws, her coat, that with the tortoise vise, her ears of jet and emerald eyes, she saw and purred applause.
1:07.2	Still had she gazed, but amidst the tide, two angel forms were seen to glide, the genie of the stream.
1:15.7	Their scaly armors, Tyrian hue, through richest purple to the view, betrayed a golden gleam.
1:25.0	The hapless nymph with wonder saw, a whisker first and then a claw. With many an ardent
1:31.3	wish, she stretched in vain to reach the prize. What female heart can gold despise what cats
1:38.2	averse to fish? Presumptuous maid with looks intent again she stretched, again she nor knew the gulf between malignant fate sat by and smiled a slippery verge her feet beguiled she tumbled hegglong in
1:54.4	eight times emerging from the flood she mewed to every watery god, some speedy aid to send.
2:03.8	No dolphin came, no near ad steered.
2:07.4	No cruel Tom, nor Susan heard.
2:10.4	A favorite has no friend.
2:13.9	From hence, ye beauty is undeceived.
	...

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