When some dear human friend to death doth bow, Fair blooming flowers are strewn upon the bier, And haply, in the silent house, we hear The last wild kiss ring on the marble brow, And lips that never missed reply till now; And thou, poor dog, wert in thy measure dear - And so I owe thee honour, and the tear Of friendship, and would all thy worth allow. In a false world, thy heart was brave and sound; So, when my spade carved out thy latest lair, A spot to rest thee on, I sought and found - It was a tuft of primrose, fresh and fair, And, as it was thy last hour above ground, I laid thy sightless head full gently there. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...BALLAD by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR WHO WALKS WITH BEAUTY by DAVID MORTON THE BLUET by W. I. LINCOLN ADAMS THE GHOSTS' MOONSHINE by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES ENOUGH by OTTO JULIUS BIERBAUM THE BOOK OF AHANIA by WILLIAM BLAKE |