Because your eyes are slant and slow,
Because your hair is sweet to touch,
My heart is high again; but oh,
I doubt if this will get me much.
Verse for a Certain Dog
Such glorious faith as fills your limpid eyes,
Dear little friend of mine, I never knew.
All-innocent are you, and yet all-wise.
(For heaven's sake, stop worrying that shoe!)
You look about, and all you see is fair;
This mighty globe was made for you alone.
Of all the thunderous ages, you're the heir.
(Get off the pillow with that dirty bone!)
A skeptic world you face with steady gaze;
High in young pride you hold your noble head;
Gayly you meet the rush of roaring days.
(Must you eat puppy biscuit on the bed?)
Lancelike your courage, gleaming swift and strong,
Yours the white rapture of a wingèd soul,
Yours is a spirit like a May-day song.
(God help you, if you break the goldfish bowl!)
"Whatever is, is good," your gracious creed.
You wear your joy of living like a crown.
Love lights your simplest act, your every deed.
(Drop it, I tell you—put that kitten down!)
You are God's kindliest gift of all,—a friend.
Your shining loyalty unflecked by doubt,
You ask but leave to follow to the end.
(Couldn't you wait until I took you out?)
Folk Tune
Other lads, their ways are daring:
Other lads, they're not afraid;
Other lads, they show they're caring;
Other lads—they know a maid.
Wiser Jock than ever you were,
Will's with gayer spirit blest,
Robin's kindlier and truer,—
Why should I love you the best?
Other lads, their eyes are bolder.
Young they are, and strong and slim,
Ned is straight and broad of shoulder,
Donald has a way with him.
David stands a head above you,
Dick's as brave as Lancelot,—
Why, ah why, then, should I love you?
Naturally, I do not.