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"No good thing comes from out of Kaiserland,"
Says Phyllis; but beside the fire I note
One Wilhelm, sleek in tawny gold of coat,
Most satin-smooth to the caresser's hand.

A velvet mien; an eye of amber, full
Of that which keeps the faith with us for life;
Lover of meal times; hater of yard-dog strife;
Lordly, with silken ears most strokeable.

Familiar on the hearth, refuting her,
He sits, the antic-pawed, the proven friend,
The whimsical, the grave and reverend--
Wilhelm the Dachs from out of Hanover.

Next: An Old Dog

Previous: Six Feet

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