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For, through thy long dark lashes low depending,
The soul of melancholy Gentleness
Above all pain, yet pitying all distress;
I worship more, but cannot love thee less.
Inscription on the Monument of a Newfoundland Dog.
When some proud son of man returns to earth,
When all is done, upon the tomb is seen,
Not what he was, but what he should have been:
But the poor dog, in life the firmest friend,
The first to welcome, foremost to defend,
Whose honest heart is still his master's own,
Who labours, fights, lives, breathes for him alone,
Unhonoured falls, unnoticed all his worth,
Denied in heaven the soul he held on earth :
While man, vain insect! hopes to be forgiven,
And claims himself a sole exclusive heaven.
Oh man! thou feeble tenant of an hour,
Debased by slavery, or corrupt by power,
Degraded mass of animated dust!
Thy love is lust, thy friendship all a cheat,
Ye! who perchance behold this simple urn,
Pass on—it honours none you wish to mourn:
Newstead Abbey, Oct. 30, 1808. XXXV.