Better fate have Prince and Swallow — 



See them cleaving to the sport ! 



Music has no heart to follow, 



Little Music, she stops short. 



She hath neither wish nor heart, 



Hers is now another part : 



A loving creature she, and brave ! 



And fondly strives her struggling friend to save. 



From the brink her paws she stretches, 

 Very hands as you would say ! 

 And afflicting moans she fetches, 

 As he breaks the ice away. 

 For herself she hath no fears, 

 Him alone she sees and hears — 

 Makes efforts and complainings ; nor gives o'er 

 Until her fellow sank, and re-appeared no more. 



William Wordsworth. 



Tribute : To the Memory of the same Dog ^o 



IE here, without a record of thy worth, 

 ■* — ' Beneath a covering of the common earth ! 

 It is not from unwillingness to praise, 

 Or want of love, that here no stone we raise ; 

 More thou deserv'st ; but this man gives to man, 

 Brother to brother, this is all we can. 



i 20 



