A SONG FOR THE DOG.
The lisping child snatches the blossom and brake
That spring by the side of the blue-bosom'd lake;
Till, heedless with laughter, he slips from the brink,
And a horror-struck mother beholdeth him sink.
That spring by the side of the blue-bosom'd lake;
Till, heedless with laughter, he slips from the brink,
And a horror-struck mother beholdeth him sink.
But hark there's a plunge; a brave diver is out,
Whose ready zeal needs no encouraging shout;
'Tis the Newfoundland playmate—the soul-less, the mute,
And God's beautiful image is saved by the brute.
Whose ready zeal needs no encouraging shout;
'Tis the Newfoundland playmate—the soul-less, the mute,
And God's beautiful image is saved by the brute.
There's one that is keeping the wide-scatter'd flock;
Now pacing the moorland, now perch'd on the rock;
Now quietly watching the lambs at their play;
Now arresting the steps that would wander away.
Now pacing the moorland, now perch'd on the rock;
Now quietly watching the lambs at their play;
Now arresting the steps that would wander away.
He rules, as all should rule, with merciful peace;
He preserveth the sheep, yet he covets no fleece;
He is true to his charge when the red sun gets up;
He is there when night closes the gold-blazon'd cup.
He preserveth the sheep, yet he covets no fleece;
He is true to his charge when the red sun gets up;
He is there when night closes the gold-blazon'd cup.
His master may conjure some love-whisper'd dream;
He may rove in the shade—he may rest by the stream—
He may pillow his head on the heath-cover'd steep;
If the Dog is awake—why, the shepherd may sleep.
He may rove in the shade—he may rest by the stream—
He may pillow his head on the heath-cover'd steep;
If the Dog is awake—why, the shepherd may sleep.
"Yoicks! yoicks, tally-ho!" and away rush glad men,
Over hill, hedge, and furrow—through copse, dale, and glen;
"Hark forward!"—on, on, with a cheer, and a bound;
But Man, mighty creature, must trust to the hound.
Over hill, hedge, and furrow—through copse, dale, and glen;
"Hark forward!"—on, on, with a cheer, and a bound;
But Man, mighty creature, must trust to the hound.
Up with the barrel, the pheasant is nigh;
"Quick, quick, to the shoulder—he rises, let fly;"
The bird's in the bag; but who will not confess,
'Twas the nose of old Ponto insured the success?
"Quick, quick, to the shoulder—he rises, let fly;"
The bird's in the bag; but who will not confess,
'Twas the nose of old Ponto insured the success?
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