THE DEAD DOG.

THE DEAD DOG.

For the man whose heart and eyeAre made wise by charity,Something will appear alwaysThat may have his honest praise;There will glimmer points of lightIn the darkest, saddest night.Thus a crowd once gathered roundThe dead carcase of an hound;Flung upon the open way,In the market-place it lay;And the idle multitude,Vulture-like, around it stood,One exclaiming, “I declareThat he poisons quite the air:”But the next, “He is not worthPains of putting under earth;”And against the poor dead thingEach in turn his stone must fling:Till one wiser passing by,Just exclaimed, while eagerlyThey were venting each his spite,—“See his teeth, how pearly white!”Straight the others, with self-blame,Shrunk away in silent shame.

For the man whose heart and eyeAre made wise by charity,Something will appear alwaysThat may have his honest praise;There will glimmer points of lightIn the darkest, saddest night.Thus a crowd once gathered roundThe dead carcase of an hound;Flung upon the open way,In the market-place it lay;And the idle multitude,Vulture-like, around it stood,One exclaiming, “I declareThat he poisons quite the air:”But the next, “He is not worthPains of putting under earth;”And against the poor dead thingEach in turn his stone must fling:Till one wiser passing by,Just exclaimed, while eagerlyThey were venting each his spite,—“See his teeth, how pearly white!”Straight the others, with self-blame,Shrunk away in silent shame.

For the man whose heart and eyeAre made wise by charity,Something will appear alwaysThat may have his honest praise;There will glimmer points of lightIn the darkest, saddest night.Thus a crowd once gathered roundThe dead carcase of an hound;Flung upon the open way,In the market-place it lay;And the idle multitude,Vulture-like, around it stood,One exclaiming, “I declareThat he poisons quite the air:”But the next, “He is not worthPains of putting under earth;”And against the poor dead thingEach in turn his stone must fling:Till one wiser passing by,Just exclaimed, while eagerlyThey were venting each his spite,—“See his teeth, how pearly white!”Straight the others, with self-blame,Shrunk away in silent shame.

For the man whose heart and eye

Are made wise by charity,

Something will appear always

That may have his honest praise;

There will glimmer points of light

In the darkest, saddest night.

Thus a crowd once gathered round

The dead carcase of an hound;

Flung upon the open way,

In the market-place it lay;

And the idle multitude,

Vulture-like, around it stood,

One exclaiming, “I declare

That he poisons quite the air:”

But the next, “He is not worth

Pains of putting under earth;”

And against the poor dead thing

Each in turn his stone must fling:

Till one wiser passing by,

Just exclaimed, while eagerly

They were venting each his spite,—

“See his teeth, how pearly white!”

Straight the others, with self-blame,

Shrunk away in silent shame.


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