a loving poem for "rover"

thanks reusable art (PD)

A particularly delightful, heartfelt poem for a boy's best friend, from sometime in the 1870s.

ROVER.
Our Rover is the finest dog
That ever ran a race;
His ear so quick, his foot so fleet,
And such an honest face.

His eyes are brown as hazlenuts,
His hair is dark and curly;
He scuds along the dewy grass,
All in the morning early.

My play-fellow in every sport,
The moment I begin it;
He ’s always ready for a race,
And always sure to win it.

At home, abroad, where’er I go,
There Rover ’s sure to be;
There never was a kinder dog
Than he has been to me.

My sister has a singing bird
Within a cage of wire;
My cousin George has every toy
That children can desire;

There ’s Charley with his story-books,-
He loves to read them over;
There ’s Edward has a rocking-horse,
Whilst I have only Rover.

Dear Rover! what care I for toys,
Or birds of brilliant feather,
Or books? Come here, you little rogue,
You're worth them all together.

- (187-?). The Floweret. Boston: Lee and Shepard. 21-22.