And you could tell, as he came by,
He had no friend on earth,
Nobody in whose partial eye
He was of any worth.
His tail hung down; his matted hair
Was like a worn-out thatch;
This dog came trotting up to where
The moonlight made a patch,
Falling between two poplar-trees;
And there the dog turned round,
Round, and round, by slow degrees—
Then crouched upon the ground.
And I brought forth some broken food,
And cried, “Old dog, get up!
That patch of moonlight may be good,
But on it you cannot sup.”
He came away—came many a pace,
And took what I bestowed;
Then, being refreshed, snuffed all the place,
And up and down the road.
I showed him where the thick grass grew
Against a sheltering wall;
I said, “Here is a bed for you,
With half-a-house and all.”
But two hours after—I kept watch
From my bedroom window-pane—
I saw that on that moony patch
He had lain down again!
And in the morning he was gone.—
What charm was it he found
In sleeping where the moonlight shone
In a patch upon the ground?
He might have slept where he had his bone,
Where the moon shone all around!
I am a superstitious man,
And it is my delight
To think there was a magic plan,
A meaning, in that night!
That magic dog that lay i’ the moon,
He will come back to me,
A fairy princess bright and boon,
Whom I that night set free!