Thou little friend who, in my heart
As in my home, didst find thy rest,
By all admired, by all caressed,
Must thou and I for ever part?

Now thou art gone, I think of thee,
As I have seen thee many a day,
Frisking in merry-hearted play,
Or sleeping, trustful, on my knee.

Oft have I seen thy slumbering face
Alert with fancied joy or pain!
Imagination held thy brain
Intent on pleasures of the chase.

How grieved wast thou, forbade to come
To share my walk, yet patient still!
How soon subdued thine ardent will!
How prompt to bid me welcome home!

And when thy time was come to die,
Then didst thou seek the room most dear,
And breathe thy last all gently there
Where on my lap thou oft didst lie.

Faithful and loving e'er wast thou,
And faith and love are virtues rare.
How hard to think that, in the air,
These are for ever vanished now!

Dull souls were they who saw ‘no soul’
In thy quick glance and speaking eye:
Shall I not meet thee by-and-bye
Thou part of an Eternal Whole?

Sleep, little form, beneath the ground!
All that was THOU can not be there.
Perchance in some far happier sphere
Thy loving soul may yet be found!