hink a dog's intelligence
Is very like our reason.

But though Philosophy has tried
A score of definitions,
'Twixt man and dog it can't decide
The relative positions.

And I believe upon the whole
(Though you my creed deny, sir),
That Rove's entitled to a soul
As much as you or I, sir!

Indeed, I fail to see the force
Of your derisive laughter
Because I will not say my horse
Has not some horse-hereafter.

A fig for dogmas--let them pass!
There's much in life to grieve us;
And what most grieves is _this_, alas!
That all our best friends leave us.

And when I sip my nightly grog,
And watch old Rover blinking,
This royal ruin of a dog
Calls forth some serious thinking.

For, though he's lightly touched by Fate,
I cannot help remarking
The step of age is in his gait,
Its hoarseness in his barking.

He still goes on his rounds at night
To keep off forest prowlers;
But, ah! he has no teeth to bite
The cunning-hearted howlers.

Not like the Rover that, erewhile,
Gave droves of dingoes battle,
And dashed through flood and fierce defile--
The friend, but dread, of cattle.

Not like to him that, in past years,
Won fight by fight, and scattered
Whole tribes of dogs with rags of ears
And tail-ends torn and tattered.

But while time tells upon our pet,
And makes him greyer daily,
He is a noble fellow yet,
And wears his old age gaily.

Still, dogs must die; and in the end,
When he is past caressing,
We'll mourn him like some human friend
Whose presence was a blessing.

Till then, be bread and peace his lot--
A life of calm and clover!
The pup may sleep outside with Spot--
We'll keep the nook for Rover.

The Melbourne International Exhibition

[_Written for Music._]

I

Brothers from far-away lands,
Sons of the fathers of fame,
Here are our hearts and our hands--
This is our song of acclaim.
Lords from magnificent zones,
Shores of superlative sway,
Awful with lustre of thrones,
This is our greeting to-day.
Europe and Asia are here--
Shining they enter our ports!
She that is half of the sphere
Beams like a sun in our courts.
Children of elders whose day
Shone to the planet's white ends,
Meet, in the noble old way,
Sons of your forefather's friends.