The Dog—An Idyllium

Quicquid est hominum venustiorum Lugete.—

Fies nobilium tu quoque.—

Where were ye nymphs when the remorseless deep
Clos’d o’er your little favourite’s hapless head
For neither did ye mark with solemn dread
In Derwent’s rocky woods the white Moon’s beam
Pace like a Druid o’er the haunted steep
Nor in Winander’s stream
Then did ye swim with sportive smile
From fairy-templ’d isle to isle
Which hear her far off ditty sweet
Yet feel not ev’n the milkmaid’s feet
What tho’ he still was by my side
When lurking near I there have seen
Your faces white your tresses green
Like water lillies floating on the tide
He saw not bark’d not he was still
As the soft moonbeam sleeping on the hill
Or when ah! cruel maids ye stretch’d him stiff and chill.
If while I gazed to Nature blind
On the calm Ocean of my mind
Some new created Image rose
In full grown beauty at its birth
Lovely as Venus from the sea
Then while my glad hand sprung to thee
We were the happiest pair on earth.