Page:Poems Cook.djvu/49

He carried the master to barter his grain,
And ever return'd with him safely again:
There was merit in that, for deny it who may,
When the master could not, Dobbin could find his way.

The dairy-maid ventured her eggs on his back:
'Twas him, and him only, she'd trust with the pack.
The team-horses jolted, the roadster play'd pranks;
So Dobbin alone had her faith and her thanks.

We fun-loving urchins would group by his side;
We might fearlessly mount him, and daringly ride:
We might creep through his legs, we might plait his long tail;
But his temper and patience were ne'er known to fail.

We would brush his bright hide till 'twas free from a speck;
We kiss'd his brown muzzle, and hugg'd his thick neck:
Oh! we prized him like life, and a heart-breaking sob
Ever burst when they threaten'd to sell our dear Dob.

He stood to the collar, and tugg'd up the hill,
With the pigs to the market, the grist to the mill;
With saddle or halter, in shaft or in trace,
He was stanch to his work, and content with his place.

When the hot sun was crowning the toil of the year,
He was sent to the reapers with ale and good cheer;
And none in the corn-field more welcome were seen
Than Dob and his well-laden panniers, I ween.

Oh those days of pure bliss shall I ever forget,
When we deck'd out his head with the azure rosette;
All frantic with joy to be off to the fair,
With Dobbin, good Dobbin, to carry us there?

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