Page:The poetical works of Matthew Arnold, 1897.djvu/505

Rh KAISER DEAD.

6, 1887.

, Kaiser dead? The heavy news

Post-haste to Cobham calls the Muse,

From where in Farringford she brews

The ode sublime,

Or with Pen-bryn's bold bard pursues

A rival rhyme.

Kai's bracelet tail, Kai's busy feet,

Were known to all the village-street.

"What, poor Kai dead?" say all I meet;

"A loss indeed!"

O for the croon pathetic, sweet,

Of Robin's reed!35

Six years ago I brought him down,

A baby dog, from London town;

Round his small throat of black and brown

A ribbon blue,

And vouch'd by glorious renown

A dachs-hound true.

His mother, most majestic dame,

Of blood-unmix'd, from Potsdam came;

And Kaiser's race we deem'd the same—

No lineage higher.

And so he bore the imperial name.

But ah, his sire!