BLOWN out of the prairie in twilight and dew, Half bold and half timid, yet lazy all through; Loath ever to leave, and yet fearful to stay, He limps in the clearing, -- an outcast in gray. A shade on the stubble, a ghost by the wall, Now leaping, now limping, now risking a fall, Lop-eared and large-jointed, but ever alway A thoroughly vagabond outcast in gray. Here, Carlo, old fellow, -- he's one of your kind, -- Go, seek him, and bring him in out of the wind. What! snarling, my Carlo! So -- even dogs may Deny their own kin in the outcast in gray. Well, take what you will, -- though it be on the sly, Marauding, or begging, -- I shall not ask why; But will call it a dole, just to help on his way A four-footed friar in orders of gray! |