Pallas's Cat

Upon the back of Ev'rest we climb

And breathe the gelid frost.

Until, at last, a respite sublime!

We pitched our tents and I finally sat.

When there upon a snow-cap'd stone,

Staring back, this Pallas's cat.

As if itself of stone were made,

Unblinking, unmoving, staring at me.

Perhaps it found me just as strange,

For women in this snowy clime must surely be

Just as rare as he.

Had not a gust of winter's chill

Come to stroke his pallid coat.

Surely, I would wonder still,

If not a cat, but ghost I'd seen

Sitting, staring, upon that stone

And had not my daughters joined me then,

I'd be certain still I was alone

And just as rare as he.