The Dog's Book of Verse Part 4

BEAU AND THE WATER LILY

The noon was shady, and soft airs Swept Ouse's silent tide, When 'scaped from literary cares I wandered on his side.

My spaniel, prettiest of his race, And high in pedigree (Two nymphs adorned with every grace That spaniel found for me)

Now wantoned, lost in flags and reeds, Now starting into sight, Pursued the swallow o'er the meads With scarce a slower flight.

It was the time that Ouse displayed His lilies newly blown; Their beauties I intent surveyed, And one I wished my own.

With cane extended far I sought To steer it close to land; But still the prize, though nearly caught, Escaped my eager hand.

Beau marked my unsuccessful pains With fixed, considerate face, And puzzling, set his puppy brains To comprehend the case.

But with a chirrup clear and strong Dispersing all his dream, I thence withdrew, and followed long The windings of the stream.

My ramble ended, I returned; Beau trotting far before The floating wreath again discerned, And, plunging, left the sh.o.r.e.

I saw him, with that lily cropped, Impatient swim to meet My quick approach, and soon he dropped The treasure at my feet.

Charmed with the sight, "The world," I cried, "Shall hear of this thy deed; My dog shall mortify the pride Of man's superior breed:

"But chief myself I will enjoin Awake at duty's call, To show a love as prompt as thine To Him who gives me all."

WILLIAM COWPER.

PETRONIUS

A dog there was, Petronius by name-- A cur of no degree, yet which the same Rejoiced him; because so worthless he That in his worthlessness remarkably He shone, th' example de luxe of how a cur May be the very limit of a slur Upon the honored name of dog; a joke He was, a satire blasphemous; he broke The records all for sheer insulting "bunk;"

No dog had ever breathed who was so punk!

And yet that cur, Petronius by name, Enkindled in his master's heart a flame Of love, affection, reverence, so rare That had he been an angel bright and fair The homage paid him had been less; you see The red-haired boy who owned him had a bee-- There was no other dog on land or sea.

Petronius was solid; he just was The dog, the only dog on earth, because-- Because a red-haired boy who likes his dog, He likes that dog so much no other dog Exists--and that, my friends, is loyalty, Than which there is no grander ecstasy.

FREDERIC P. LADD.

MY DOG

Here is a friend who proves his worth Without conceit or pride of birth.

Let want or plenty play the host, He gets the least and gives the most-- He's just a dog.

He's ever faithful, kind and true; He never questions what I do, And whether I may go or stay, He's always ready to obey 'Cause he's a dog.

Such meager fare his want supplies!

A hand caress, and from his eyes There beams more love than mortals know; Meanwhile he wags his tail to show That he's my dog.

He watches me all through the day, And nothing coaxes him away; And through the night-long slumber deep He guards the home wherein I sleep-- And he's a dog.

I wonder if I'd be content To follow where my master went, And where he rode--as needs he must-- Would I run after in his dust Like other dogs.

How strange if things were quite reversed-- The man debased, the dog put first.

I often wonder how 'twould be Were he the master 'stead of me-- And I the dog.

A world of deep devotion lies Behind the windows of his eyes; Yet love is only half his charm-- He'd die to s.h.i.+eld my life from harm.

Yet he's a dog.

If dogs were fas.h.i.+oned out of men What breed of dog would I have been?

And would I e'er deserve caress, Or be extolled for faithfulness Like my dog here?

As mortals go, how few possess Of courage, trust, and faithfulness Enough from which to undertake, Without some borrowed traits, to make A decent dog!

JOSEPH M. ANDERSON.

CHARITY'S EYE

One evening Jesus lingered in the marketplace, Teaching the people parables of truth and grace, When in the square remote a crowd was seen to rise, And stop with loathing gestures and abhorring cries.

The Master and his meek disciples went to see What cause for this commotion and disgust could be, And found a poor dead dog beside the gutter laid-- Revolting sight! at which each face its hate betrayed.

One held his nose, one shut his eyes, one turned away, And all among themselves began to say: "Detested creature! he pollutes the earth and air!"

"His eyes are blear!" "His ears are foul!" "His ribs are bare!"

"In his torn hide there's not a decent shoestring left, No doubt the execrable cur was hung for theft."

Then Jesus spake, and dropped on him the saving wreath: "Even pearls are dark before the whiteness of his teeth."

The pelting crowd grew silent and ashamed, like one Rebuked by sight of wisdom higher than his own; And one exclaimed: "No creature so accursed can be But some good thing in him a loving eye will see."

WILLIAM ROUNSEVILLE ALGER.

TO BLANCO

My dear, dumb friend, low-lying there, A willing va.s.sal at my feet, Glad partner of my home and fare, My shadow in the street,