Most of the poems comprising Old Possum’s Book of Practical Cats (1939) have been set to music complete in their originally published form; a few have been subject to a minor change of tense or pronoun, and eight lines have been added to “The Song of the Jellicles.”

However, some of the our lyrics, notably “The Marching Song of the Pollicle Dogs” and the story of “Grizabella” were discovered among the unpublished writings of Eliot.

The prologue is based on ideas and incorporates lines from another unpublished poem, entitled “Pollicle Dogs and Jellicle Cats.”

“Memory” includes lines from and is suggested by “Rhapsody On a Windy Night,” and other poems of the Prufrock period. All other words in the show are taken from the Collected Poems.” (Nunn 1981)

In his [TSE] early student poetry there is a preoccupation with the passage of time - time running away, flowers that wither. . . His [sic] seems to have a temperament acutely aware of waste, of the emptiness of passing days, of the need to use time, to put a stamp on it. (Ackroyd, 1984:31)

But that [the literary model] would be to mistake the nature of his creativity; he needed the model before he could explicate his own experience, just as in later life he would read Ibsen before he wrote The Family Reunion [ … ] He did not imitate the previous work; he used it as a rough sketch which helped him to order and to understand his own experience. (Ackroyd 1984:37)

Eliot’s gravely whimsical address to his favorite animal [cat], composed with great metrical brilliance, showed him worthy descendent of Lewis Carroll and Edward Lear as a writer of serious light verse. (Bergonzi 1972:21)

Many of the verses on the subject of Growltiger and Macavity had in fact originally been written for the children of the Fabers and the Morleys; Eliot’s own affection for small rather that large animals is sufficiently well known, and he was the owner (or patron) of a succession of cats with names like Pettipaws, Wiscus and George Pushdragon. [ ... ] The verses of Practical Cats revert to the 'thumping’ rhythms which he had assimilated as a child, and perhaps they owe something of their inspiration, also, to the memory of Eliot’s father who drew cats for recreation. (Ackroyd 1984:251)

Eliot heard this word [Jellicle] from his young niece, who sounded as if she were saying “Jellicle cat” whenever she called for her dear little cat’ (“Dea-lickle Cat”) and “Pollicle dog” whenever she called for her 'poor little puppy’ (“Po’-lickle Dog”). (Ackroyd 1984:251-252)

Old Deuteronomy lies on the floor
Of the Fox and the French Horn for his afternoon sleep;
And when the men say: 'There’s just time for one more,’
Then the lady from her back parlour will peep
And say: 'Now then, out you go, by the back door,
For Old Deuteronomy mustn’t be woken
I’ll have the police if there’s any uproar’
And out they all shuffle, without a word spoken.
The digestive repose of that feline’s gastronomy
Must never be broken, whatever befall:
And the Oldest Inhabitant croaks: 'Well of all…’

At prestidigitation
And at legerdemain
He’ll defy examination
And deceive you again.

And when the Foreign Office find a Treaty’s gone astray,
Or the Admiralty lose some plans and drawings by the way,
There may be a scrap of paper in the hall or on the stair
But it’s useless to investigate - Macavity’s not there!
And when the loss has been disclosed, the Secret Service say:
It must have been Macavity!’- but he’s a mile away.
You’ll sure to find him resting, or a-licking of his thumbs,
Or engaged in doing complicated long division sums.

You’re read of several kinds of Cat,
And my opinion now is that
You should need no interpreter
To understand their character.
You now have learned enough to see (You’ve learned enough to take the view)
That Cats are much like you and me. (That Cats are very much like you).
And other people whom we find
Possessed of various types of mind.
For some are sane and same are mad
And some are good and some are bad
And some are better, some are worse
But all may be described in verse
You’ve seen them (us) both at work and games,
And learnt about their (our) proper names,
Their (Our) habits and their habitat:
But, how do you ad-dress a Cat?
So first, your memory I’ll jog,
And say: A Cat is Not a Dog.

Now Dogs pretend they like to fight;
They often bark, more seldom bite;
But yet a Dog is, on the whole,
What you would call a simple soul.
Of course I’m not including Pekes,
And such fantastic canine freaks.
The usual Dog about the Town
Is much inclined to play the clown,
And far from showing too much pride
Is frequently undiginifed.
He’s very easily taken in
Just chuck underneath the chin
Or slap his back or shake his paw,
And he will gambol and gaffaw.
He’s such an easy-going lout,
He’ll answer any hail or shout.
Again I must remind you that
A Dog’s a Dog - a Cat’s a Cat.

With Cats, some say, one rule is true:
Don’t speak till you are spoken to.
Myself, I do not hold with that
I say, you should ad-dress a Cat.
But always keep in mind that he
Resents familiarity.
I (You) bow, and taking off my (your) hat,
Ad-dress him in this form: O Cat!
But if he is the Cat next door,
Whom I have often met before
(He comes to see me in my flat)
I greet him with an Oopsa Cat!
I’ve heard them call him James Buz-James
But we’ve not got so far as names.
Before a Cat will condescend
To treat you as a trusted friend,
Some little token of esteem
Is needed like a dish of cream;
And you might now and then supply
Some caviare, or Strassburg Pie,
Some potted grouse or salmon paste
He’s sure to have his personal taste.
(I know a Cat, who makes a habit
Of eating nothing else but rabbit,
And when he’s finished, licks his paws
So’s not to waste the onion sauce.)
A Cat’s entitled to expect
These evidences of respect.
And so in time you reach your aim,
And finally call him by his Name.
So this is this, and that is that:
And there’s how you Ad-dress a Cat.

I once was a Pirate what sailed the 'igh seas
But now I’ve retired as a com-mission-aire:
And that’s how you find me a-takin’ my ease
And keepin’ the door in a Bloomsbury Square.

I’m partial to partridges, likewise to grouse,
And I favour that Devonshire cream in a bowl;
But I’m allus content with a drink on the 'ouse
And a bit o’cold fish when I done me patrol.

I ain’t got much polish, me manners is gruff,
But I’ve got a good coat, and I keep meself smart;
And everyone says, and I guess that’s enough:
You can’t but like Morgan, 'e’s got a kind 'art.

I knocked about on the Barbary Coast,
And me voice it ain’t no sich melliferous horgan;
But yet I can state, and I’m not one to boast,
That some of the gals is dead keen on old Morgan.

So if you 'ave business with Faber or Faber
I’ll give you this tip, and it’s worth a lot more:
You’ll save yourself time, and you’ll spare yourself labour
If jist you make friends with the Cat at the Door.

She haunted many a low resort
Near the grimy road of Tottenham Court
She flitted about the no-man’s land
From “The Rising Sun” to “The Friend At Hand”.
And the postman sighed as he scratched his head
“You’d really had thought she ought to be dead”.
And who would ever suppose that that…
Was Grizabella the Glamour Cat.

. . of course for Eliot, Tottenham Court Road still meant a prostitute area. So the idea of a once-beautiful creature who now only appears at night in a hooker’s district is something that’s very, very evocative. [From this eight-line poem, “Grizabella” became] A key to an enterprise, because if there can be somebody who’d lost everything, somebody who requires forgiveness, perhaps, then there is the possibility of a narrative. There is the possibility of some idea of rejection and eventually mercy [and] forgiveness. (Nunn 2002)