A SONG FOR THE DOG.
Weary and lonely the beggar goes by,
No warm heart to expect him, no friendly hand nigh;
But among all the sorrows that misery deals,
We may see the starved Cur ever close at his heels.
No warm heart to expect him, no friendly hand nigh;
But among all the sorrows that misery deals,
We may see the starved Cur ever close at his heels.
The one who for years has been miss'd in his place,
May return with strange shadows of time on his face;
Friends have forgotten the wandering boy,
But the old Dog remembers, and hails him with joy
May return with strange shadows of time on his face;
Friends have forgotten the wandering boy,
But the old Dog remembers, and hails him with joy
Then a health to the noble, the honest old Tray;
The watchman of night, the companion of day;
And a Song for the Dog shall be merrily troll'd
As the meed of the faithful, the fond, and the bold.
The watchman of night, the companion of day;
And a Song for the Dog shall be merrily troll'd
As the meed of the faithful, the fond, and the bold.
MY OWN.
"My own, my own"—oh! who shall dare
To set this seal of claim on earth;
When "chance and change" are everywhere,
On all and each of human birth?
To set this seal of claim on earth;
When "chance and change" are everywhere,
On all and each of human birth?
"My own, my own"—these words are breathed
By the young mother o'er her child;
Her hope and joy about it wreathed,
Like moss to wood flower—warm and wild.
By the young mother o'er her child;
Her hope and joy about it wreathed,
Like moss to wood flower—warm and wild.
"My own, my own"—so gently sighs
The doting lover to his bride,
Finding his sunshine in her eyes,
His world of Pleasure by her side.
The doting lover to his bride,
Finding his sunshine in her eyes,
His world of Pleasure by her side.
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