A slumber did my spirit seal; I had no human fears: She seemed a thing that could not feel The touch of earthly years. No motion has she now, no force; She neither hears nor sees; Rolled round in earth's diurnal course, With rocks, and stones, and trees.
William Wordsworth - 1770-1850
from The Kitten and Falling Leaves
See the kitten on the wall, sporting with the leaves that fall, Withered leaves—one—two—and three, from the lofty elder-tree! Through the calm and frosty air, of this morning bright and fair . . . —But the kitten, how she starts; Crouches, stretches, paws, and darts! First at one, and then its fellow, just as light and just as yellow; There are many now—now one—now they stop and there are none; What intenseness of desire, in her upward eye of fire! With a tiger-leap half way, now she meets the coming prey, Lets it go as fast, and then, has it in her power again: Now she works with three or four, like an Indian Conjuror; Quick as he in feats of art, far beyond in joy of heart.