Songs of the Seasons :: :: University of Virginia Library

My shadow! my lov'd shadow!—not my only,
Thank God for this! I've parted with to-day,
Obie! poor Obie! Oh! my heart is wae,
And all the landscape of my future lonely.

II

How I shall miss thee in the summer-tide,
While sauntering with my wand up Teviotdale—
The merry wagging of thy glossy tail—
Thy happy gambols at the river-side—

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III

The joyous ringing of thy wanton tongue,
That woke to life the echo of its joy,
And in me stirred the feelings of the boy,
A thousand thoughts, unlettered and unsung!

IV

The Love and Worship beaming from an eye
That drowned in jet a living diamond,
And strove with gaze affectionate and fond
To read my inmost wishes and reply!

V

Obie! poor Obie! of thy tragic fate
To whisper even, knowing as I know,
The dealing is of an o'erpowering blow
That leaves me tearful and disconsolate.

VI

Was I thy deity, tried follower?
Often I asked thee, and the mute reply
Was given by thy tail and earnest eye.
Oh! had I been as true a worshipper

VII

Of the great God as thou wert unto me,
I could have held my head up as a prophet,
And, by example, rescued souls-from Tophet,
But such high privilege was not to be!

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VIII

Obie! thine ashes in my garden laid
Are not less dear than dust of kith and kin,
If so to hold them, some regard a sin,
They're welcome! Sinning so, is God obeyed!