Until encouraged by their masters’ cries
They plunge into the stream: the stream before ’em flies.
Rover, the first that plung’d, the first in fame
And one from Charles’s noble breed that came.
The next came Trip, tho’ of a bastard race,
And smaller size, he swam the next in place.
The last came Ranger, with his spotted back,
That swam but slow: the gravest of the pack.
His deep rough voice was of a hoarser sound
With long red ears that swept along the ground....