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Posts Tagged ‘poem’

THE PASSING OF A DOG

This kindly friend of mine who’s passed
Beyond the realm of day,
Beyond the realm of darkling night,
To unknown bourne away
Was one who deemed my humble home
A palace grand and fair;
Whose fullest joy it was to find
His comrade ever there.
Ah! He has gone from out my life
Like some dear dream I knew.
A man may own a hundred dogs,
But one he loves, and true.

Anonymous.

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OUR DOG JOCK

A rollicksome, frolicsome, rare old cock
As ever did nothing was our dog Jock;
A gleesome, fleasome, affectionate beast,
As slow at a fight as swift at a feast;
A wit among dogs, when his life ‘gan fail,
One couldn’t but see the old wag in his tail,
When his years grew long and his eyes grew dim,
And his course of bark could not strengthen him.
Never more now shall our knees be pressed
By his dear old chops in their slobbery rest,
Nor our mirth be stirred at his solemn looks,
As wise, and as dull, as divinity books.
Our old friend’s dead, but we all well know
He’s gone to the Kennels where the good dogs go,
Where the cooks be not, but the beef-bones be,
And his old head never need turn for a flea.

James Payn.

Close up of a Old Dog

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THE BOND

When I call my terrier by his name,
Or join him at evening play;
His eyes will flash with a human flame
And he looks what he cannot say;
For the bond between us two
Is that between me and you!
Should a seraph sing in my ear tonight,
Or a sweet voiced angel come.
Would poor speech prove my soul’s delight,
Or ecstasy drive me dumb?
For the link ‘twixt them and me
Is long as Eternity.

Wide leagues our sentient forms divide
The loftier from the mean;
But soul to soul all planes are tied
When sympathy lies between;
And who shall say that the brute
Is soulless, though mean and mute?

George H. Nettle.
The Officer's Mess

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MUSIC, WHEN SOFT VOICES DIE

Music, when soft voices die,
Vibrates in the memory.
Odours, when sweet violets sicken,
Live within the sense they quicken.

Rose leaves, when the rose is dead,
Are heaped for the beloved’s bed;
And so thy thoughts, when thou art gone,
Love itself shall slumber on.

Percy Bysshe Shelley.

 

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When We Two Parted

When we two parted

In silence and tears,

Half broken-hearted,

To sever for years,

Pale grew thy cheek and cold,

Colder thy kiss;

Truly that hour foretold

Sorrow to this!

The dew of the morning

Sunk chill on my brow;

It felt like the warning

Of what I feel now.

The vows are all broken,

And light is thy fame:

I hear thy name spoken

And share in its shame.

They name thee before me,

A knell to mine ear;

A shudder comes o’er me –

Why wert thou so dear?

They know not I knew thee

Who knew thee too well:

Long, long shall I rue thee

Too deeply to tell.

In secret we met:

In silence I grieve

That thy heart could forget,

Thy spirit deceive.

If I should meet thee

After long years,

How should I greet thee?

With silence and tears.

By Lord Byron

 

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TO ONE IN PARADISE

Thou wast all that to me, love,

For which my soul did pine-

A green isle in the sea, love,

A fountain and a shrine,

All wreathed with fairy fruits and flowers,

And all the flowers were mine.

Ah, dream too bright to last!

Ah, starry Hope! that didst arise

But to be overcast!

A voice from out the Future cries,

“On! on!”- but o’er the Past

(Dim gulf!) my spirit hovering lies

Mute, motionless, aghast!

For, alas! alas! me

The light of Life is o’er!

“No more- no more- no more-”

(Such language holds the solemn sea

To the sands upon the shore)

Shall bloom the thunder-blasted tree

Or the stricken eagle soar!

And all my days are trances,

And all my nightly dreams

Are where thy grey eye glances,

And where thy footstep gleams-

In what ethereal dances,

By what eternal streams.

Edgar Allan Poe

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When We Two Parted: By Lord Byron

When we two parted

In silence and tears,

Half broken-hearted,

To sever for years,

Pale grew thy cheek and cold,

Colder thy kiss;

Truly that hour foretold

Sorrow to this!

The dew of the morning

Sunk chill on my brow;

It felt like the warning

Of what I feel now.

The vows are all broken,

And light is thy fame:

I hear thy name spoken

And share in its shame.

They name thee before me,

A knell to mine ear;

A shudder comes o’er me –

Why wert thou so dear?

They know not I knew thee

Who knew thee too well:

Long, long shall I rue thee

Too deeply to tell.

In secret we met:

In silence I grieve

That thy heart could forget,

Thy spirit deceive.

If I should meet thee

After long years,

How should I greet thee? –

With silence and tears.

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