| |
| HERE lies, whom hound did ne’er pursue, | |
| Nor swifter greyhound follow; | |
| Whose foot ne’er tainted morning dew, | |
| Nor ear heard huntsman’s halloo. | |
| |
| Old Tiney, the surliest of his kind! | 5 |
| Who, nursed with tender care, | |
| And to domestic bounds confined, | |
| Was still a wild Jack hare. | |
| |
| Though duly from my hand he took | |
| His pittance every night, | 10 |
| He did it with a jealous look; | |
| And, when he could, would bite. | |
| |
| His diet was of wheaten bread, | |
| And milk, and oats, and straw; | |
| Thistles, or lettuces instead; | 15 |
| And sand to scour his maw. | |
| |
| On twigs of hawthorn he regaled, | |
| On pippins’ russet peel; | |
| And, when his juicy salads failed, | |
| Sliced carrot pleased him well. | 20 |
| |
| A Turkey carpet was his lawn, | |
| Whereon he loved to bound, | |
| To skip, and gambol like a fawn, | |
| And swing his rump around. | |
| |
| His frisking was at evening hours, | 25 |
| For then he lost his fear; | |
| But most before approaching showers, | |
| Or when a storm drew near. | |
| |
| Eight years and five round-rolling moons | |
| He thus saw steal away, | 30 |
| Dozing out all his idle noons, | |
| And every night at play. | |
| |
| I kept him for his humour’s sake; | |
| For he would oft beguile | |
| My heart of thoughts that made it ache, | 35 |
| And force me to a smile. | |
| |
| But now, beneath his walnut shade, | |
| He finds his long last home; | |
| And waits, in snug concealment laid, | |
| Till gentler Puss shall come. | 40 |
| |
| He, still more agèd, feels the shocks | |
| From which no care can save; | |
| And, partner once of Tiney’s box, | |
| Must soon partake his grave! | |
| |
