Songs of Love and Rebellion/To Spot
TO SPOT
Dear Spot, dear old curly fellow,
If what they say is true,
Out in the far off heavens, dim,
We'll meet no more—we two.
We'll range the fields no more, old boy;
No more we'll hunt the bird;
No more the whirr of partridge wings
In music will be heard!
No more together we will roam,
And happy, side by side;
No more we'll beat the coveys up,
When you and I have died.
You're nothing but a brute, old boy—
You needn't look so fine;
And through your soft and splendid eyes
The lovelight need not shine.
But yonder reeling sot, old boy,
Is gifted with a soul,
And, after ages long and dim,
The Godhead will behold.
But you—why, you're nothing old boy,
You're nothing but a dog;
And when you die they'll haul you out
And throw you in the bog.
I'm only telling you, old boy,
What wise men say is true;
Of course, I don't believe a word
'Gainst such a friend as you.
Before the shrines of loyalty.
Of friendship and of love,
I know no shade will higher stand,
No soul your soul above.