Vox Populi
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Lord Byron: Epitaph to a Dog
Near this spot
Are deposited the Remains
Of one
Who possessed Beauty
Without Vanity,
Strength without Insolence,
Courage without Ferocity,
And all the Virtues of Man
Without his Vices.
The Price, which would be unmeaning flattery
If inscribed over Human Ashes,
Is but a just tribute to the Memory of
“Boatswain,” a Dog
Who was born at Newfoundland,
May, 1803,
And died in Newstead Abbey,
Nov. 18th, 1808.
When some proud son of man returns to earth,
Unknown by glory, but upheld by birth,
The sculptor’s art exhausts the pomp of woe,
And stories urns record that rests below.
When all is done, upon the tomb is seen,
Not what he was, but what he should have been.
But the poor dog, in life the firmest friend,
The first to 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 —
While man, vain insect! hopes to be forgiven,
And claims himself a sole exclusive heaven.
Oh man! thou feeble tenant of an hour,
Debased by slavery, or corrupt by power —
Who knows thee well must quit thee with disgust,
Degraded mass of animated dust!
Thy love is lust, thy friendship all a cheat,
Thy smiles hypocrisy, thy words deceit!
By nature vile, ennoble but by name,
Each kindred brute might bid thee blush for shame.
Ye, who perchance behold this simple urn,
Pass on — it honors none you wish to mourn.
To mark a friend’s remains these stones arise;
I never knew but one — and here he lies.
Public Domain
From Elizabeth Bridget Pigot’s The Wonderful History of Lord Byron and His Dog (Cropped image, Harry Ransom Center, University of Texas)
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I love this poem and haven’t read it in a long time. I miss all my past dogs💔
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Me too, Lisa. I’ve often thought that dogs have better characters than people.
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my God ! How beautiful this poem is! Despite its classical language, it is very modern, very new. Vox Populi is one of the few magazines that respects the valuable works of the past in addition to today’s works. This beautiful poem reminded me of Christopher Smart (11 April 1722 – 20 May 1771) magnificent poem for his cat: jeoffry(from Jubilate Agno )
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Spot on, Farideh. Thank you!
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How absolutely wonderful.
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Now tbat’s a poem!
Damn!
I’ll be the dust…
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Thanks, Sean!
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And now I arise to walk with Tashi at the shore. She races up the cliffs no more, but I with cane and both of us more gray, companions in life’s autumn will totter on our way.
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And now I arise to walk with Tashi at the shore. She races up the cliffs no more, but I with cane and both of us more gray, companions in life’s autumn will totter on our way.
It scans! And rhymes!
I knew it. You’re a romantic poet!
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🤣
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Eloquent and succinct assessment.
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Yes, a musical accompaniment to Dog.
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