Poems (Frances Elizabeth Browne)/Epitaph on a favorite dog
EPITAPH ON A FAVORITE DOG.
Poor little dog! thy span of life was short,
Spent half in misery, and half in sport.
Thy bark so joyous, and thy bound so light,
Thy speed so swift, and thy dark eyes so bright,
Thy puppy age so fondled and caressed,
Thy lot appeared peculiarly blessed.
Poor Tip! disease attacked thy little frame,
Anguish and pain scarce could thy spirits tame;
But, wandering from thy home in evil hour,
Thou wert exposed to persecution's power,
Hunger and cold and cruelty combined.
Home thou at length were brought, exhausted, blind.
We fed, and watched, and nursed thee for a while,
And kindness did thy sufferings beguile,
Until with health thy buoyant heart revived,
Although, alas! thy mirth was but shortlived;
For, when accustomed to the loss of sight,
Again thou gambolledst with renewed delight.
Thy yet unconquerable wish to roam
Impelled thee once again to quit thy home,
And, blind and helpless, fall an easy prey
To boys, who drowned thee for their cruel play.
Spent half in misery, and half in sport.
Thy bark so joyous, and thy bound so light,
Thy speed so swift, and thy dark eyes so bright,
Thy puppy age so fondled and caressed,
Thy lot appeared peculiarly blessed.
Poor Tip! disease attacked thy little frame,
Anguish and pain scarce could thy spirits tame;
But, wandering from thy home in evil hour,
Thou wert exposed to persecution's power,
Hunger and cold and cruelty combined.
Home thou at length were brought, exhausted, blind.
We fed, and watched, and nursed thee for a while,
And kindness did thy sufferings beguile,
Until with health thy buoyant heart revived,
Although, alas! thy mirth was but shortlived;
For, when accustomed to the loss of sight,
Again thou gambolledst with renewed delight.
Thy yet unconquerable wish to roam
Impelled thee once again to quit thy home,
And, blind and helpless, fall an easy prey
To boys, who drowned thee for their cruel play.