ringlets brown,
Flow thy silken ears adown
Either side demurely
Of thy silver-suited breast,
Shining out from all the rest
Of thy body purely.

III

Darkly brown thy body is,
Till the sunshine striking this
Alchemize its dulness,
When the sleek curls manifold
Flash all over into gold
With a burnished fulness.

IV

Underneath my stroking hand.
Startled eyes of hazel bland
Kindling, growing larger,
Up thou leanest with a spring,
Full of prank and curvetting,
Leaping like a charger.

V

Leap! thy broad tail waves a light,
Leap! thy slender feet are bright,
Canopied in fringes;
Leap! those tasselled ears of thine
Flicker strangely, fair and fine
Down their gold inches.

VI

Yet, my pretty sportive friend,
Little is't to such an end
That I praise thy rareness:
Other dogs may be thy peers
Happy in these drooping ears
And this glossy fairness.

VII

But of _thee_ it shall be said,
This dog watched beside a bed
Day and night unweary,--
Watched within a curtained room
Where no sunbeam brake the gloom,
Round the sick and dreary.

VIII

Roses, gathered for a vase,
In that chamber died space,
Beam and breeze resigning:
This dog only waited on,
Knowing, that, when light is gone,
Love remains for shining.

IX

Other dogs in thymy dew
Tracked the hares, and followed through
Sunny moor or meadow:
This dog only crept and crept
Next a languid cheek that slept,
Sharing in the shadow.

X

Other dogs of loyal cheer
Bounded at the whistle clear,
Up the woodside hieing:
This dog only watched in reach
Of a faintly uttered speech,
Or a louder sighing.

XI

And if one or two quick tears
Dropped upon his glossy ears,
Or a sigh came double,
Up he sprang in eager haste,
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

This dog, if a friendly voice
Call him now to blither choice
Than such chamber-keeping,
"Come out!" praying from the door,
Presseth backward as before,
Up against me leaping.

XIV

Therefore to this dog will I,
Tenderly, not scornfully,
Render praise and favor:
With my hand upon his head,
Is my ben