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When he's been talkin' to the boys about the workers' rights.
An' spoutin' of equality, down at the huts, of nights.

I turned the social system inside-out for my old dog,
Tho' he don't seem much entertained, but lies there like a log.
I spoke of common people's wrongs—especially of mine;
But when I came to mention love I thought I heard him whine.

But I went on, an' said straight out that, tho' I seemed above
Such nonsense once, I'd changed a bit, an' I believed in love.
I said love was a splendid thing! … Then, true as I am born.
He rose, an' yawned, an' shut me up with one crook glance of scorn.

It's bad enough to be a bloke without one reel close friend;
But when your dog gives you the bird it's pretty near the end.
Ashamed, I sneaked away to bunk; an' fell to dreamin' there
Of a little brown-eyed vision with the sunlight in her hair.