The Dog
P HYLAX , long the faithful guard,
Day and night, of house and yard,
Often scaring, by his yelling,
Gangs of robbers from the dwelling—
Phylax—who had whilome made
That rare rogue, Lips Tullian, cower
Twice, and flee, at midnight hour,—
By a fever low was laid.
Neighbors all gave counsel gratis,
Krumholzöl and Mithridates
Must the poor, sick dog see fit,
Though reluctant, to admit.
Even neighbor Gastwirth's art,
Who, erewhile, across the water,
Had, as Doctor, been much sought for,
Could, for once, no aid impart.
Scarce the news were one hour old,
Leaving dinner to grow cold,
All his friends and brothers, crying,
Came to see poor Phylax dying.
Pantelon, his dearest friend,
Licks his fevered chops, bemoaning
O'er the bitter hour and groaning:
‘Oh, the unexpected end!’
‘Ah,’ cried Phylax, ‘Pantelon!
Yes, my life will soon be gone!
Had I only nothing taken,
Haply I had saved my bacon;
But I die for want of breath;
Oh, thou safely mayst impress on
All my friends this timely lesson:
Too much physic caused my death.
‘I could sink without a groan,
Were it not for many a bone
In the ground I've had to bury,
And now cannot with me carry.
That I should have quite forgot
All this treasure to devour,
Ere I saw this final hour,—
Oh, the overwhelming thought!
‘If thou lov'st me, and art true,
Fetch them now, dear brother, do!
One is by the linden, brother,
At the garden-gate; another
Yesterday I laid away
In the wood-pile; right behind it,
Dearest Pantelon, thou 'lt find it;
But don't gnaw it, brother, pray!’
Off went Pantelon, true hound,
And brought truly what he found;
Phylax faintly owned the favor,
Faintly snuffed the dainty savor,
Then, when he can see no more,
‘Let all lie,’ he said, ‘I prithee!
If I die, I'll give it to thee!
But, dear brother, not before!
‘Might I once, before I die,
Get that sweet shank-bone, that I—
Ah, I know not where I placed it,
Would that I could see and taste it!
That will I with thee divide;
By my life, if I recover,
The best half to thee make over;
Yes, thou shalt’—he choked and died
Day and night, of house and yard,
Often scaring, by his yelling,
Gangs of robbers from the dwelling—
Phylax—who had whilome made
That rare rogue, Lips Tullian, cower
Twice, and flee, at midnight hour,—
By a fever low was laid.
Neighbors all gave counsel gratis,
Krumholzöl and Mithridates
Must the poor, sick dog see fit,
Though reluctant, to admit.
Even neighbor Gastwirth's art,
Who, erewhile, across the water,
Had, as Doctor, been much sought for,
Could, for once, no aid impart.
Scarce the news were one hour old,
Leaving dinner to grow cold,
All his friends and brothers, crying,
Came to see poor Phylax dying.
Pantelon, his dearest friend,
Licks his fevered chops, bemoaning
O'er the bitter hour and groaning:
‘Oh, the unexpected end!’
‘Ah,’ cried Phylax, ‘Pantelon!
Yes, my life will soon be gone!
Had I only nothing taken,
Haply I had saved my bacon;
But I die for want of breath;
Oh, thou safely mayst impress on
All my friends this timely lesson:
Too much physic caused my death.
‘I could sink without a groan,
Were it not for many a bone
In the ground I've had to bury,
And now cannot with me carry.
That I should have quite forgot
All this treasure to devour,
Ere I saw this final hour,—
Oh, the overwhelming thought!
‘If thou lov'st me, and art true,
Fetch them now, dear brother, do!
One is by the linden, brother,
At the garden-gate; another
Yesterday I laid away
In the wood-pile; right behind it,
Dearest Pantelon, thou 'lt find it;
But don't gnaw it, brother, pray!’
Off went Pantelon, true hound,
And brought truly what he found;
Phylax faintly owned the favor,
Faintly snuffed the dainty savor,
Then, when he can see no more,
‘Let all lie,’ he said, ‘I prithee!
If I die, I'll give it to thee!
But, dear brother, not before!
‘Might I once, before I die,
Get that sweet shank-bone, that I—
Ah, I know not where I placed it,
Would that I could see and taste it!
That will I with thee divide;
By my life, if I recover,
The best half to thee make over;
Yes, thou shalt’—he choked and died
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