ALGER’S Eastern Poetry.

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ROVER.

    “Kind traveller, do not pass me by,
      And thus a poor old dog forsake;
    But stop a moment on your way,
      And hear my woe for pity’s sake!

    “My name is Rover; yonder house
      Was once my home for many a year;
    My master loved me; every hand
      Caressed young Rover, far and near.

    “The children rode upon my back,
      And I could hear my praises sung;
    With joy I licked their pretty feet,
      As round my shaggy sides they clung.

    “I watched them while they played or slept;
      I gave them all I had to give: 
    My strength was theirs from morn till night;
      For them I only cared to live.

    “Now I am old, and blind, and lame,
      They’ve turned me out to die alone,
    Without a shelter for my head,
      Without a scrap of bread or bone.

    “This morning I can hardly crawl,
      While shivering in the snow and hail;
    My teeth are dropping, one by one;
      I scarce have strength to wag my tail.

    “I’m palsied grown with mortal pains,
      My withered limbs are useless now;
    My voice is almost gone you see,
      And I can hardly make my bow.

    “Perhaps you’ll lead me to a shed
      Where I may find some friendly straw
    On which to lay my aching limbs,
      And rest my helpless, broken paw.

    “Stranger, excuse this story long,
      And pardon, pray, my last appeal;
    You’ve owned a dog yourself, perhaps,
      And learned that dogs, like men, can feel.”

    Yes, poor old Rover, come with me;
      Food, with warm shelter, I’ll supply;
    And Heaven forgive the cruel souls
      Who drove you forth to starve and die!

J. T. FIELDS.

* * * * *

TO MY DOG “BLANCO.”

    My dear dumb friend, low lying there,
      A willing vassal at my feet,
    Glad partner of my home and fare,
      My shadow in the street.

    I look into your great brown eyes,
      Where love and loyal homage shine,
    And wonder where the difference lies
      Between your soul and mine!

    For all of good that I have found
      Within myself or humankind,
    Hath royalty informed and crowned
      Your gentle heart and mind.

    I scan the whole broad earth around
      For that one heart which, leal and true,
    Bears friendship without end or bound,
      And find the prize in you.

    I trust you as I trust the stars;
      Nor cruel loss, nor scoff of pride,
    Nor beggary, nor dungeon-bars,
      Can move you from my side!

    As patient under injury
      As any Christian saint of old,
    As gentle as a lamb with me,
      But with your brothers bold;