And dark brown eyes that never quail,
But look you through, and through, and through,
With love unspeakable, but true.
Somewhere it must be, I opine,
There is a little dog of mine
With cold black nose that sniffs around
In search of what things may be found
In pocket or some nook hard by,
Where I have hid them from his eye.
Somewhere my doggie pulls and tugs