University of Virginia Library

Where Nile, the King of Floods, bestows
His genial blessings as he flows,
A widow'd Peasant, who with care
Foster'd a darling Infant Heir,
The only Offspring of a Wife,
Dearer, when living, than his life,
His cottage left at early day;
The Babe in cradle sleeping lay;
His fav'rite Dog too left behind,
His Child and House's Guard design'd;—
Ended his bus'ness, soon the Swain
Returns to his lov'd charge again;
He lifts the latch—his little cot
No other bar or fence had got—
His Dog with conscious sound and tail
(In Dogs can Treachery prevail!)
Joy more than usual expresses,
Twisting his form with fond caresses;
But, Oh, how great was his surprize!
All smear'd with blood the Dog he spies;
His frightful jaws, distain'd with gore,
Suspicious marks of murder bore;
The frighted Parent looks around,
No little Darling's to be found;
The cradle overturn'd—the rest
By fear and wild despair was guest;
The Infant's fate each object shews,
The Murd'rer in his Dog he views;
He rag'd, his hair he wildly tore,
And with a hatchet which he bore,
Dealing a blow revengeful, strait
Consign'd the Mastiff to his fate;
Then headlong to the cradle flies,
Which rais'd (amazement all!) he spies
His smiling treasure on the floor,
Asleep, unwounded and secure;
And not far distant from the child,
A monst'rous Serpent, newly kill'd,
Mangled and bloody, which 'twas plain
The faithful murder'd Dog had slain—
Slain in his Baby's dear defence,
To save from death its innocence;
And in the fray, so says the Fable,
Were overset—both Child and Cradle.

If to the Moral you attend,
You'll ne'er unheard condemn your Friend.