Ode to a Pink Tabby Kitten

I've written a poem on the ways and character of Gwenith, my pinky-yellow medium-haired tabby kitten.

WARNING: Egregious Sentimentality and Affected Archaisms Dead Ahead!
To My Capricious Kitty

O Gwenith fair, thou pink and coy,
How dost thou wend within my heart?
Flirtatious, clinging, shrinking, shy,
Thy feline ways a thing apart.

Thy pale and striped tabby fur,
Thy bib and belly white as dove,
Thy elfin face, thy plushy tail
Me call to give thee snuggly love.

And purring, purring like a mill!
Content thou seemst in all thou dost:
At play, at food, at mischief, too:
To pet thee seemeth only just!

But O! illusive as thou art!
Thine act denies thy winsomeness:
So quick eluding every touch,
So loath to brook the fond caress!

Thou might'st be tripping through the hall
Or crouching snug the stairs upon,
Or anywhere the house abroad:
I stoop to stroke--and thou art gone!

But let me lay me in my bed,
Or sit to work, then verily,
There art thou, Gwen, upon my lap,
My desk, my work, all over me!

Thou trammelst me at every turn!
I cannot see, thou block’st my view!
With kisses rousing me from sleep,
With paws that knock my plans askew!

No good nor use to sigh and groan,
For kittens walk in fancy’s ways;
And Gwenith fair will grow a cat,
And then I’ll mourn these wanton days.

Flirtatious, clinging, shrinking, shy,
Thy feline ways a thing apart,
O Gwenith fair, thou pink and coy,
How thou dost wend within my heart!