Page:The blue poetry book (IA bluepoetry00lang).pdf/31

Rh Nor did you kill that you might eat,
 * And ease a doggish pain,

For him, though chased with furious heat,
 * You left where he was slain.

Nor was he of the thievish sort,
 * Or one whom blood allures,

But innocent was all his sport
 * Whom you have torn for yours.

My dog! what remedy remains,
 * Since, teach you all I can,

I see you, after all my pains,
 * So much resemble man?

Sir, when I flew to seize the bird
 * In spite of your command,

A louder voice than yours I heard,
 * And harder to withstand.

You cried—Forbear!'—but in my breast
 * A mightier cried 'Proceed!'

'Twas Nature, sir, whose strong behest
 * Impell'd me to the deed.