Poems (Sewell)/Fable of the Dogs

by Mary Young Sewell

THE
FABLE OF THE DOGS. 1796.

Now swift upon the wings of Fame,
The dismal news triumphant came,
And round the fatal rumour spread,
That ev'ry Dog must lose his head,
Yet now, as Mercy still entreated,
Ere Policy her work compleated,
She summon'd ev'ry dog of sport,
Of pride, or profit, into court,
And call'd the miscreants to produce
Their names, their quality, and use;
Resolv'd no quarter to afford,
To such as paid not for their board,
But banish ev'ry worthless hound
To some dark corner under ground.—
This little scheme was Mercy's doing,
She gain'd this point to save their ruin,
And still maintain'd the cause with vigour,
That more than dogs wou'd feel the rigour.

The day was fix'd, the crew assembled,
And ev'ry dog with horror trembled!—
With stately air, and sober look,
The Mastiff first his station took;
Of Tuscan order, not for grace,
For solid use he shew'd his place;
He seem'd for courtesy unfit,
For lively sports and games of wit,
Yet something dignified and bold,
In his grim looks you might behold!
And many a witness con'd produce
An item to declare his use;
His thund'ring voice, in midnight clear
Had struck the ruffian's heart with fear,
And turn'd, by Heaven's decree, the knife,
Once levell'd at his master's life!
No lurking bribe, with art insiduous,
Had ever made him once perfidious:
What tho' his manners might be gruff!
He play'd his part, and that's enough.—
With conscious pride, he gain'd his due,
And slowly from the court withdrew.

With spotted coat, and velvet ears,
The Spaniel next in form appears;
Soft was the language of his eye,
And mild as Gratitude's reply;
His silken hair, his gentle pace,
Proclaim'd him courtier of his race!
His darling wish, his fav'rite plan,
To follow still the steps of man,
Tho' form'd for sports, his curious art
He gave to man, with willing heart;
For him the copse he oft explor'd,
And watch'd him both at bed and board;
With mild, engaging, pleasing airs,
He sooth'd his langour and his cares
His wayward humours—all he bore!
The Spaniel sigh'd, and said no more.—
What rig'rous heart cou'd sign his doom?
He shook his ears and scamper'd home.

With looks, where strength with beauty blended,
And gentle courtesy attended,
While ev'ry dog his passage clear'd, how
The great Newfoundland next appear'd!
He seem'd unwilling to assert
His native worth, and high desert.—
With ev'ry quality-endow'd,
Of which the Mastiff seem'd so proud;
Possess'd of all those winning ways,
That form the Spaniel's gentle praise,
He said he plac'd his chief renown in,
That once he sav'd a man from drowning!
His master told the strange event,
And own'd his dog the instrument.
The court pronounc'd a loud reprieve—
The pris'ner bow'd, and took his leave.

Next came the Pointer, bold and pert,
With bloodshot eyes and looks alert;
Around the eager sportsmen stood
And vow'd to save him, if they cou'd;
They told his parentage and birth,
And said the country knew his worth,
For manly sports, with firm allegiance,
He paid his master strict obedience;
Fatigue and hunger he endur'd,
And skilfully his prey secur'd
With general plaudits, hoarse and loud,
Poor Cæsar hobbled thro' the crowd.
The tenants of the grove alone,
Declar'd their fav'rite hope was gone,
They flew, with conscious fears dismay'd,
And vanish'd in, the deepest shade!

With softest fur, and ears of silk,
And nicest paws, as white as milk,
With looks most elegantly neat, me
The Lapdog next assumes his seat!
Keen was the look, and fierce the frown,
Which seem'd resolv'd to crush him down;
Yet still, tho' much the sentence fearing,
He begg'd to have a patient hearing,
Some room for mercy might be shewn him—
And call'd a witness who had known him!
A Cat demure, of colour grey,
Who now infirm and helpless lay,
Declar'd—tho' foe to all his crew—
That much he scorn'd a bribe, she knew;
When sick or sad his mistress lay,
She knew he nurs'd her all the day,
And even to growl, he often ventur'd,
Whenever bold intruders enter'd!
With soft domestic, pleasing pow'r
He cheer'd her solitary hours;
He shared her walks—shou'd Malice teaze her,
He play'd a thousand tricks to please her;
Close by her side he softly crept,
And watch'd her slumbers while she slept;
His piercing voice announc'd the stranger,
And gave alarm in time of danger!—
Thus spoke the witness, most demurely,
And said she came for Justice purely;
Nor spoke the whisker'd friend in vain,
The case, the evidence was plain!
The wond'ring court, her pow'rs confest,
And spared Fidelio, like the rest!

And now, to paint each various sort,
Which rose tumultuous in the court,
And all their sev'ral claims display'd,
In field, in buildings, and in shade,
The Muse declares herself unequal,
And quick must hasten to the sequel.

A dog, of coarse plebeian mould,
Obscure, and hideous to behold!
Of shaggy coat, and looks forlorn,
Which rais'd the gen'ral smile of scorn,
Amidst the murmurs of the crew,
Came forth, distinguish'd to the view;
With modest looks, yet not dismay'd,
His rev'rence to the court he paid,
And thus, with anguish in his breast,
His artless sentiments express'd:—
"I see, alas! a gen'ral gloom,
"Portends my miserable doom!
"I frankly own my vulgar breed—
"I boast no rhetoric to succeed;
No softness in my look appears
"Rough is my coat, and cropt my ears!
No carpets am I us'd to tread,
"The cold and moisten'd earth my bed!
"Yet still—tho' humble is my lot,
"A friend I have in yonder cot!—
"Ah, know! that poverty and cares,
"Weigh to the grave his silver hairs!
"'Tis mine, with pride I must reveal,
"To share his solitary meal,
'Tis mine, when Labour's task is o'er,
"To give a welcome at his door:
"Humbly I watch his little store,
"My feeble pow'rs can do no more!—
"No plea of excellence I make;
"But spare me, for my master's sake!
"Or if my sentence be decreed,
"Oh let some other dog succeed,
Some dog as faithful and sincere,
"And Tray shall die—without a tear!"

He ceas'd! and lo! a gen'ral pause,
Proclaim'd a heartfelt, deep applause!
From Pity's eye, a tear there fell—
Ah! who cou'd think he'd plead so well?—
"Go, gen'rous dog," the court exclaim'd,
"And gain the victory you have claim'd!
"Oh fear not malice, nor disaster,
"Go—rove a comfort to your master!"

The judge declar'd the trial o'er,
Twere shameful to detain them more;
In ev'ry dog that told his case,
There seem'd such merit in his place,
She said that praise on each must fall,
And gave acquittal to them all!