28 SELECT POETRY

When at last I was forced from my Sheelah to part,
She said—while the sorrow was big at her heart

“Oh! remember your Sheelah, when far, far away,
And be kind, my dear Pat, to our poor dog, Tray.”

Poor dog! he was faithful and kind, to be sure,
And he constantly loved me, although I was poor;
When the sour-looking folks sent me heartlessaway,
I had always a friend in my poor dog, Tray.

When the road was so dark, and the night was so
cold,

And Pat and his dog were grown weary and old,

How snugly we slept in my old coat of gray,

And he licked me for kindness—my poor dog, Tray.

Though my wallet was scant! I remembered his case,
Nor refused my last crust to his pitiful face ;

But he died at my feet on a cold winter's day,
And I played a sad lament for my poor dog, Tray.

Where now shall I go, poor, forsaken, and blind ?

Can I find one to guide me, so faithful and kind?

To my sweet native village, so far, far away,

I can never return with my poor dog, Tray.
Cambell.

 

THE BARLEY-MOWERS’ SONG,

BaRLEY-MOWERS, here we stand,
One, two, three, a steady band;
True of heart, and strong of limb,
Ready in our harvest trim ;

“1 Though my wallet was seant—though my bag was {Il
furnished or nearly empty.