“Ah! Is there not a lion in the way?”
Will seems in haste his master’s boots to clean,
Old James is driving Turkeys o’er the green,
Our crazy-pated dairy-maid just now
Is scribbling o’er these senseless lines to you.
Hark! there’s a call, O pardon what I’ve penn’d;
I’m sure you’re glad my letter’s at an end.
FROM
SNIPE,
A FAVOURITE DOG,
TO HIS
MASTER.
May, 1791.