Poetry of Lord ByronemorogFebruary 18 2008, 19:09:23 UTC
(selection of Inscription on the Monument of a Newfoundland Dog, 1808)
When some proud son of man returns to earth, Unknown to glory, but upheld by birth, The sculptor's art exhausts the pomp of woe, And storied urns record who rest below: When all is done, upon the tomb is seen, Not what he was, but what he should have been: But the poor [cat], in life the firmest friend, The first ot welcome, foremost to defend, Whose honest heart is still his master's own, Who labors, fights, lives, breathes for him alone, Unhonored falls, unnoticed all his worth, Denied in heaven the soul he held on earth:
...
To mark a friend's remains these stones arise; I never knew but one, - and here he lies.
Comments 5
When some proud son of man returns to
earth,
Unknown to glory, but upheld by birth,
The sculptor's art exhausts the pomp of
woe,
And storied urns record who rest below:
When all is done, upon the tomb is seen,
Not what he was, but what he should have
been:
But the poor [cat], in life the firmest friend,
The first ot welcome, foremost to defend,
Whose honest heart is still his master's
own,
Who labors, fights, lives, breathes for him
alone,
Unhonored falls, unnoticed all his worth,
Denied in heaven the soul he held on
earth:
...
To mark a friend's remains these stones
arise;
I never knew but one, - and here he lies.
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