William Stanley Braithwaite, ed. The Book of Georgian Verse. 1909.
The Dog and the Water-LilyWilliam Cowper (17311800)
T
Swept Ouse’s silent tide,
When, ’scaped from literary cares,
I wander’d on his side.
And high in pedigree,—
(Two nymphs adorn’d with every grace
That spaniel found for me,)
Now starting into sight,
Pursued the swallow o’er the meads
With scarce a slower flight.
His lilies newly blown;
Their beauties I intent survey’d,
And one I wish’d my own.
To steer it close to land;
But still the prize, though nearly caught,
Escaped my eager hand.
With fix’d considerate face,
And puzzling set his puppy brains
To comprehend the case.
Dispersing all his dream,
I thence withdrew, and follow’d long
The windings of the stream.
Beau, trotting far before,
The floating wreath again discern’d,
And plunging left the shore.
Impatient swim to meet
My quick approach, and soon he dropp’d
The treasure at my feet.
‘Shall hear of this thy deed;
My dog shall mortify the pride
Of man’s superior breed;
Awake at duty’s call,
To show a love as prompt as thine
To Him who gives me all.’