LITERARY CORNER

This month the literary corner celebrates the truest friend a person can have.

Epitaph to a Dog

Near this Spot
are deposited the Remains of one
who possessed Beauty without Vanity,
Strength without Insolence,
Courage without Ferosity,
and all the virtues of Man without his Vices.
This praise, which would be unmeaning Flattery
if inscribed over human Ashes,
is but a just tribute to the Memory of
BOATSWAIN, a DOG,
who was born in Newfoundland May 1803
and died at Newstead Nov 18th 1808.
--George Gordon, Lord Byron

The Power of the Dog

There is sorrow enough in the natural way
From men and women to fill our day;
And when we are certain of sorrow in store,
Why do we always arrange for more?
Brothers and Sisters, I bid you beware
Of giving your heart to a dog to tear.

Buy a pup and your money will buy
Love unflinching that cannot lie--
Perfect passion and worship fed
By a kick in the ribs or a pat on the head.
Nevertheless it is hardly fair
To risk your heart for a dog to tear.

When the fourteen years which Nature permits
Are closing in asthma, or tumour, or fits,
And the vet's unspoken prescription runs
To lethal chambers or loaded guns,
Then you will find--it's your own affair--
That you've given your heart to a dog to tear.

When the body that lived at your single will,
With its whimper of welcome, is stilled (how still!).
When the spirit that answered your every mood
Is gone--wherever it goes--for good,
You will discover how much you care,
That you gave your heart to a dog to tear.
--Rudyard Kipling


True

I could have borne it better if he'd left me in the fall
When all the leaves are dying in their gold and crimson caul.
I'd have seen the wild birds winging
Southward to a warmer place
And held my boy, still clinging,
But surrendered him with grace.

My heart might not have broken if dark winter was his doom
When all things bright and beautiful its frozen breath entombs.
I'd have known grey clouds were bringing
Icy droplets from the sky
Sent my darling, softly singing
His favorite lullabye.

But True died in the springtime; now the river calls his name,
Lilacs he loved erupting in deep-hearted purple flame.
Alone I sit in darkness, longing
For my True friend by my side,
Knowing springtime's golden dawning
No joy can provide.
-Selsi


"When I needed a hand, I found your paw."