To A Terrier





Crib, on your grave beneath the chestnut boughs

To-day no fragrance falls nor summer air,

Only a master's love who laid you there

Perchance may warm the earth 'neath which you drowse

In dreams from which no dinner gong may rouse,

Unwakeable, though close the rat may dare,

Deaf, though the rabbit thump in playful scare,

Silent, though twenty tabbies pay their vows.

And yet, mayhap, some night when shadows pass,

And from the fir the brown owl hoots on high,

That should one whistle 'neath a favoring star

Your small white shade shall patter o'er the grass,

Questing for him you loved o' days gone by,

Ere Death the Dog-Thief carried you afar!





Tim An Irish Terrier To Rufus A Spaniel facebooktwittergoogle_plusredditpinterestlinkedinmail

Feedback