Author W. H. Davies My dog went mad and bit my hand, I was bitten to the bone:My wife went walking out with him, And then came back alone.I smoked my pipe, I nursed my wound, I saw them both depart:And when my wife came back alone, I was bitten to the heart. Rate this poem Select ratingGive it 1/5Give it 2/5Give it 3/5Give it 4/5Give it 5/5 Average: 4.3 (4 votes) Rate Log in or register to post comments