AJAX by PHOEBE CARY

OLD Ajax was a faithful dog,
Of the best and bravest sort;
And we made a friend and pet of him,
And called him "Jax," for short.
He served us well for many a year,
But at last there came a day
When, a superannuated dog,
In the sun he idly lay.

And though as kindly as before
He still was housed and fed,
We brought a younger, sprightlier dog
For service in his stead.
Poor "Jax!" he knew and felt it all,
As well as you or I;
He laid his head on his trembling paws,
And his whine was like a cry.

And then he rose: he would not stay
Near where the intruder stayed;
He took the other side of the house,
Though that was in the shade.
And he never answered when we called,
He would not touch his bone;
'T was more than he could bear to have
A rival near his throne.

We tried to soothe his wounded pride
By every kindly art;
But if ever creature did, poor "Jax"
Died of a broken heart.
Alas! he would not learn the truth,
He was not still a pup;
That every dog must have his day,
And then must give it up!

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