A Gentleman From France/My Dog
My Dog
Come in, old beggar whining at the door,
Come in, old chap, and lie upon the floor,
And rest your faithful head upon my knee,
And deem it joy to be alone with me;
My dear old dog, unto creation's end,
Of all the world thou art my truest friend.
Come in, old chap, and lie upon the floor,
And rest your faithful head upon my knee,
And deem it joy to be alone with me;
My dear old dog, unto creation's end,
Of all the world thou art my truest friend.
Thou dost not ask if I be rich the while,
Or if my coat is shabby or in style,
Or if the critics call me small or great,
Whether my life be full of joy or hate,
Or if my purse be over-lean or fat,
All through and through, thou art a democrat.
Or if my coat is shabby or in style,
Or if the critics call me small or great,
Whether my life be full of joy or hate,
Or if my purse be over-lean or fat,
All through and through, thou art a democrat.
Thou dost not ask that I be good to thee,
It is enough that thou dost care for me;
And if this hand could beat thee from my door,
Thou wouldst come back at night and whine once more
To lick the hand that made thy body smart,
And love me still, deep in thy doggish heart.
It is enough that thou dost care for me;
And if this hand could beat thee from my door,
Thou wouldst come back at night and whine once more
To lick the hand that made thy body smart,
And love me still, deep in thy doggish heart.
Thou dost not ask for dainty bread and meat
But lovest best the food I will not eat,
And sweet the bit, if looks I understand,
That thou canst eat from out thy master's hand,
And while wise men to thank the Lord may fail,
My dog says "Thank you," with his wagging tail.
But lovest best the food I will not eat,
And sweet the bit, if looks I understand,
That thou canst eat from out thy master's hand,
And while wise men to thank the Lord may fail,
My dog says "Thank you," with his wagging tail.
And if my dog is sleeping in the hall,
I have no fear that danger will befall,
For thieves would find that passage doubly barred,
A truer soldier never mounted guard,
And lasting is a dog's fidelity
To those he loves, as man's can ever be.
I have no fear that danger will befall,
For thieves would find that passage doubly barred,
A truer soldier never mounted guard,
And lasting is a dog's fidelity
To those he loves, as man's can ever be.
What love is beaming in those two brown eyes,
When chidden, too, what sorrow in them lies,
And how they follow me from place to place,
As though they tried to read their master's face;
And how he springs and barks when I am glad,
How soon his tail will droop if I am sad!
When chidden, too, what sorrow in them lies,
And how they follow me from place to place,
As though they tried to read their master's face;
And how he springs and barks when I am glad,
How soon his tail will droop if I am sad!
And when I die, if friends forget to pine,
There'll be one faithful dog to howl and whine,
To bark impatient at my bedroom door,
To search the woodland and the meadow o'er,
And watch and whine for master who is late,
And die at last still waiting at the gate.
There'll be one faithful dog to howl and whine,
To bark impatient at my bedroom door,
To search the woodland and the meadow o'er,
And watch and whine for master who is late,
And die at last still waiting at the gate.