Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE PETITION OF THE MASSACHUSETTS FARMER'S DOG TO HIS MASTER, by ROYALL TYLER


Poetry Explorer

Classic and Contemporary Poetry

THE PETITION OF THE MASSACHUSETTS FARMER'S DOG TO HIS MASTER, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: And must the law's inexorable doom
Last Line: And sweet humanity crown all her race.
Alternate Author Name(s): Old Simon; S.
Subject(s): Animals; Dogs


AND must the Law's inexorable doom
Condemn to death thy fond and faithful Tray?
In Life's full vigour must I find a tomb,
And fall to baleful Avarice a pray?

Say, must I quit for Death my darling home,
Nor sleep outstretch'd before thy fire side;
Nor lick the hand, which gives the savoury bone,
Nor guard thee, with an honest mastiff's pride?

Shall I no more thy much lov'd steps pursue;
Scent, with sagacious nose, the path you ride;
Then snuff the favouring gale, in chase of you,
To sport and gambol at my master's side?

What dreary winter nights for thee I bore,
Through hail and snow, and rain, and piercing sleet;
I drove the vagrant thief from off thy door,
And chas'd the hungry wolf from off thy sheep.

For thee I oft the wiley fox pursued,
With drooping dewlaps brush'd the morning dews;
How oft the burglar's blood my jaws embrued,
To save thy poultry and thy tender ewes.

How oft thy flocks I've driven to the pen;
How oft the furious bull I've caus'd to yield;
Or dragg'd the pilfering musquash from his den,
Or rous'd the partridge in the stubble field.

Think on thy tassell'd corn, thy fruitful vine,
Thy clover fields, thy teeming garden's pride;
How oft from them I drove the rooting swine,
And sunk my tushes in his bristled hide.

Oft did thy children sport with frolic Tray,
And found in me their joy and little wealth;
Whilst thou, delighted, saw our harmless play
Give to thy prattlers exercise and health.

Oh spare me, Master, let me life receive,
Let not the dread command of death go forth;
This sun we view, this common air we breathe,
One common Parent gave them to us both.

Man deals destruction to his fellow man,
And manlike reason sanctifies the blow;
But murdering harmless brutes sure never can
Add one poor laurel to a human brow.

Better had I with my blind brethren died;
Blind to the fate, which sunk them in the wave;
A strangled infant, then I had not tried
The bliss of life, and found a dreaded grave.

Oh leave TO SAVAGE FRANCE the gory deed;
Let her the blood of innocence deface;
But let soft pity by Columbia's meed,
And sweet humanity crown all her race.





Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!


Other Poems of Interest...
Home: PoetryExplorer.net