Till one fine day, half joyful, half in fear, 

 You run and prick a recognising ear, 

 And last, oh, rapture ! leaping to his hand, 

 Salute your master as he steps to land. 



Robert C Lehmann. 



In Memoriam <^ <^ *^> <^ <^ 



MISS the little wagging tail ; 

 * I miss the plaintive pleading wail ; 

 I miss the wistful loving glance ; 

 I miss the circling welcome-dance. 



I miss the eyes that watching sued ; 

 I miss her tongue of gratitude 

 That licked my hand, in loving mood, 

 When we divided cup or food. 



I miss the pertinacious scratch 

 (Continued till I raised the latch 

 Each morning), waiting at my door : 

 Alas ! I ne'er shall hear it more. 



" What folly ! " hints the cynic mind, 

 '• Plenty of dogs are left behind 

 To snap and snarl, to bark and bite, 

 And wake us in the gloomy night. 



223 



