He will hold thee, when his passion shall have spent its novel force,
Something better than his dog, a little dearer than his horse.
Locksley Hall. Line 49.
This is truth the poet sings,
That a sorrow's crown of sorrow is remembering happier things.[626:1]
Locksley Hall. Line 75.
Like a dog, he hunts in dreams.
Locksley Hall. Line 79.
With a little hoard of maxims preaching down a daughter's heart.
Locksley Hall. Line 94.