Classic Poem

‘The lady's hound, restore the hound, Sir Knight.’
‘The hound,’ said Gawaine, much relieved; ‘what hound?’
And then perceived he that the dog he fed,
With grateful steps the kindly guest had found,
And there stood faithful.—‘Friend,’ Sir Gawaine said,
‘What's just is just! the dog must have his due,
The dame had hers, to choose between the two.’

The carle demurred; but justice was so clear,
He'd nought to urge against the equal law;
He calls the hound, the hound disdains to hear,
He nears the hound, the hound expands his jaw;
The fangs were strong and sharp, that jaw within,
The carle drew back—‘Sir Knight, I fear you win.’

‘My friend,’ replies Gawaine, the ever bland
‘I took thy lesson, in return take mine;
All human ties, alas! are ropes of sand,
My lot to-day, to-morrow may be thine;
But never yet the dog our bounty fed
Betrayed the kindness, or forgot the bread.’