For I will consider my dog Percy
A dog starved at his master's gate,
he eats his victuals fast enough.
Oh fat white doggie whom nobody loves,
oh, you are patient, I have seen you sit,
a huddled mastiff yearning to breathe free;
hope springs eternal in the canine breast.
Whilst thou art barking forth thy soul abroad
wagging thy tail in sprightly dance—
Down, wanton, down! Have you no shame?
Let us go, through certain half-deserted streets.
By thy long white ears and quivering nose
now wherefore stopp'st thou at this tree?
"Is it weakness of intellect, doggie?" I cried.
The dog was ours before we were the dog's.
Apologies to: Christopher Smart, Wm Blake, AE Housman, Frances Cornford, Ezra Pound, Emma Lazarus, Alexander Pope, John Keats, Wm Wordsworth, Robert Graves, TS Eliot, ST Coleridge, WS Gilbert, Robert Frost
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