LORD SOMERVILLE.
THE UNDER DOG
I know that the world, the great big world,
Will never a moment stop
To see which dog may be in the fault,
But will shout for the dog on top.
But for me, I shall never pause to ask
Which dog may be in the right,
For my heart will beat, while it beats at all,
For the under dog in the fight.
ANONYMOUS.
THE SHEPHERD AND HIS DOG
My dog and I are both grown old;
On these wild downs we watch all day;
He looks in my face when the wind blows cold,
And thus methinks I hear him say:
The gray stone circlet is below,
The village smoke is at our feet;
We nothing hear but the sailing crow,
And wandering flocks that roam and bleat.
Far off, the early horseman hies,
In shower or sunshine rushing on;
Yonder the dusty whirlwind flies;
The distant coach is seen and gone.
Though solitude around is spread,
Master, alone thou shalt not be;
And when the turf is on thy head,
I only shall remember thee.
I marked his look of faithful care,
I placed my hand on his shaggy side;
"There is a sun that shines above,
A sun that shines on both," I cried.
WILLIAM LISLE BOWLES.
BETH GELERT
The spearman heard the bugle sound,
And cheerily smiled the morn;
And many a brach, and many a hound,
Attend Llewellyn's horn:
And still he blew a louder blast,
And gave a louder cheer:
"Come, Gelert! Why art thou the last
Llewellyn's horn to hear?
"Oh, where does faithful Gelert roam?
The flower of all his race!
So true, so brave, a lamb at home,
A lion in the chase!"
In sooth, he was a peerless hound,
The gift of royal John,
But now no Gelert could be found,
And all the chase rode on.
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