To guard the door, or wait a fresh command;
Thy joy to meet at eve, with fawning play,
Domestic faces, absent but a day;
Thy bark, that might the boldest thief affright,
And patient watch through many a dreary night—
All speak thy worth, but none could save thy breath,
For what is merit ’gainst the shafts of Death?
Sleep, then, my dog! thy tour of duty o’er,
Where thief and trav’ler can disturb no more;
Content t’ have gained all that thou now canst have—