Fawning, fondling, breathing fast
In a tender trouble.
XII
And this dog was satisfied
If a pale thin hand would glide
Down his dewlaps sloping,—
Which he pushed his nose within,
After,—platforming his chin
On the palm left open.
XIII
Fawning, fondling, breathing fast
In a tender trouble.
XII
And this dog was satisfied
If a pale thin hand would glide
Down his dewlaps sloping,—
Which he pushed his nose within,
After,—platforming his chin
On the palm left open.
XIII