Your dog is not a dog of grace;
He does not wag the tail or beg;
He bit Miss Dickson in the face;
He bit a Bailie in the leg.
What tragic choices such a dog
Presents to visitor or friend!
Outside there is the Glasgow fog;
Within, a hydrophobic end.
Yet some relief even terror brings,
For when our life is cold and gray
We waste our strength on little things,
And fret our puny souls away.
A snarl! A scruffle round the room!
A sense that Death is drawing near!
And human creatures reassume
The elemental robe of fear.
So when my colleague makes his moan
Of careless cooks, and warts, and debt,
-- Enlarge his views, restore his tone,
And introduce him to your Pet!
Quod Raleigh.
To A Lady With An Unruly And Ill-mannered Dog Who Bit Several Persons Of Importance
Sir Walter Raleigh
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Poem topics: away, death, fear, fog, friend, life, strength, I miss you, human, room, sense, face, cold, relief, tragic, waste, restore, dog, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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