dots-menu
×

Home  »  A Book of Women’s Verse  »  To Flush, My Dog

J. C. Squire, ed. A Book of Women’s Verse. 1921.

By Elizabeth Barrett Browning (1806–1861)

To Flush, My Dog

I
LOVING friend, the gift of one

Who her own true faith has run

Through thy lower nature,

Be my benediction said

With my hand upon thy head,

Gentle fellow creature!

II
Like a lady’s ringlets brown,

Flow thy silken ears adown

Either side demurely

Of thy silver-suited breast,

Shining out from all the rest

Of thy body purely.

III
Darkly brown thy body is,

Till the sunshine striking this

Alchemize its dullness,

When the sleek curls manifold

Flash all over into gold,

With a burnished fullness.

IV
Underneath my stroking hand,

Startled eyes of hazel bland

Kindling, growing larger,

Up thou leapest with a spring,

Full of prank and curveting,

Leaping like a charger.

V
Leap! thy broad tail waves a light,

Leap! thy slender feet are bright,

Canopied in fringes;

Leap—those tasselled ears of thine

Flicker strangely, fair and fine,

Down their golden inches.

VI
Yet, my pretty, sportive friend,

Little is ’t to such an end

That I praise thy rareness!

Other dogs may be thy peers

Haply in these drooping ears,

And this glossy fairness,

VII
But of thee it shall be said,

This dog watched beside a bed

Day and night unweary,—

Watched within a curtained room,

Where no sunbeam brake the gloom

Round the sick and dreary.

VIII
Roses, gathered for a vase,

In that chamber died apace,

Beam and breeze resigning;

This dog only, waited on

Knowing that when light is gone

Love remains for shining.

IX
Other dogs in thymy dew

Tracked the hares and followed through

Sunny moor or meadow;

This dog only, crept and crept

Next a languid cheek that slept,

Sharing in the shadow.

X
Other dogs of loyal cheer

Bounded at the whistle clear,

Up the woodside hieing;

This dog only, watched in reach

Of a faintly uttered speech,

Or a louder sighing.

XI
And if one or two quick tears

Dropped upon his glossy ears,

Or a sigh came double,—

Up he sprang in eager haste,

Fawning, fondling, breathing fast

In a tender trouble.

XII
And this dog was satisfied

If a pale thin hand would glide

Down his dewlaps sloping,—

Which he pushed his nose within,

After,—platforming his chin

On the palm left open.

XIII
This dog, if a friendly voice

Call him now to blyther choice

Than such chamber-keeping,

‘Come out!’ praying from the door,—

Presseth backward as before,

Up against me leaping.

XIV
Therefore to this dog will I,

Tenderly not scornfully,

Render praise and favour:

With my hand upon his head,

Is my benediction said

Therefore, and for ever.

XV
And because he loves me so,

Better than his kind will do

Often, man or woman,

Give I back more love again

Than dogs often take of men,

Leaning from my Human.

XVI
Blessings on thee, dog of mine,

Pretty collars make thee fine,

Sugared milk make fat thee!

Pleasures wag on in thy tail,

Hands of gentle motion fail

Nevermore, to pat thee!

XVII
Downy pillow take thy head,

Silken coverlid bestead,

Sunshine help thy sleeping!

No fly’s buzzing wake thee up,

No man break thy purple cup,

Set for drinking deep in.

XVIII
Whiskered cats arointed flee,

Sturdy stoppers keep from thee

Cologne distillations;

Nuts lie in thy path for stones,

And thy feast-day macaroons

Turn to daily rations!

XIX
Mock I thee, in wishing weal?—

Tears are in my eyes to feel

Thou art made so straitly,

Blessing needs must straiten too,—

Little canst thou joy or do,

Thou who lovest greatly.

XX
Yet be blessèd to the height

Of all good and all delight

Pervious to thy nature;

Only loved beyond that line,

With a love that answers thine,

Loving fellow creature.