William Watson.
IN MEMORIAM
I miss the little wagging tail;
I miss the plaintive, pleading wail;
I miss the wistful, loving glance;
I miss the circling welcome-dance.
I miss the eyes that, watching, sued;
I miss her tongue of gratitude
That licked my hand, in loving mood,
When we divided cup or food.
I miss the pertinacious scratch
(Continued till I raised the latch
Each morning), waiting at my door;
Alas, I ne'er shall hear it more.
"What folly!" hints the cynic mind,
"Plenty of dogs are left behind
To snap and snarl, to bark and bite,
And wake us in the gloomy night.
"You should have sought a human friend,
Whose life eternal ne'er could end—
Whose gifts of intellect and grace
Bereavement never could efface."
Plenty of snarling things are left,
But I am of a friend bereft;
I seek not intellect, but heart—
'Tis not my head that feels the smart.