| |
| FINDING Francesca full of tears, I said, | |
| “Tell me thy trouble.” “Oh, my dog is dead! | |
| Murdered by poison!—no one knows for what— | |
| Was ever dog born capable of that?” | |
| “Child,”—I began to say, but checked my thought,— | 5 |
| “A better dog can easily be bought.” | |
| For no—what animal could him replace? | |
| Those loving eyes! That fond, confiding face! | |
| Those dear, dumb touches! Therefore I was dumb. | |
| From word of mine could any comfort come? | 10 |
| A bitter sorrow ’t is to lose a brute | |
| Friend, dog or horse, for grief must then be mute,— | |
| So many smile to see the rivers shed | |
| Of tears for one poor, speechless creature dead. | |
| When parents die there ’s many a word to say,— | 15 |
| Kind words, consoling—one can always pray; | |
| When children die ’t is natural to tell | |
| Their mother, “Certainly, with them ’t is well!” | |
| But for a dog, ’t was all the life he had, | |
| Since death is end of dogs, or good or bad. | 20 |
| This was his world; he was contented here; | |
| Imagined nothing better, naught more dear, | |
| Than his young mistress; sought no brighter sphere; | |
| Having no sin, asked not to be forgiven; | |
| Ne’er guessed at God nor ever dreamed of heaven. | 25 |
| Now he has passed away, so much of love | |
| Goes from our life, without one hope above! | |
| When a dog dies there ’s nothing to be said | |
| But—kiss me, darling!—dear old Smiler’s dead. | |
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