The Dog And The Patch Of Moonshine

A harvest moon! Was ever seen A harvest moon so bright? The crowded ivy, darkly green, Was touched with primrose white.

The quiet skies uncovered lay, And, far as you could see, The night was like a ghostly day On road, and field, and tree.

Silence and light! Will nothing speak In the light and silence wide? O lady moon, your other cheek Why do you always hide?

Sweet on the air was the jessamine, As I stood at my gate; Yet I shuddered, and thought, “I will go in,-- The silence is too great!”

I looked to where the hill-tops showed Behind the poplars green, When there came trotting down the road A dog--the dog was lean;

And you could tell, as he came by, He had no friend on earth, Nobody in whose partial eye He was of any worth.

His tail hung down; his matted hair Was like a worn-out thatch; This dog came trotting up to where The moonlight made a patch,

Falling between two poplar-trees; And there the dog turned round, Round, and round, by slow degrees-- Then crouched upon the ground.

And I brought forth some broken food, And cried, “Old dog, get up! That patch of moonlight may be good, But on it you cannot sup.”

He came away--came many a pace, And took what I bestowed; Then, being refreshed, snuffed all the place, And up and down the road.

I showed him where the thick grass grew Against a sheltering wall; I said, “Here is a bed for you, With half-a-house and all.”

But two hours after--I kept watch From my bedroom window-pane-- I saw that on that moony patch He had lain down again!

And in the morning he was gone.-- What charm was it he found In sleeping where the moonlight shone In a patch upon the ground? He might have slept where he had his bone, Where the moon shone all around!

I am a superstitious man, And it is my delight To think there was a magic plan, A meaning, in that night!

That magic dog that lay i’ the moon, He will come back to me, A fairy princess bright and boon, Whom I that night set free!

There was a mystery in the air, And in the primrose light; The silence seemed to say, “Prepare! It shall be done to-night!”

And could that mystery only mean A dog that was not fat? I saw a glint of elfin green In the moonshine where he sat--

I heard the midnight clocks all round, In distant falls and swells-- I heard a little silver sound, The clink of elfin bells-- But will my princess be unbound, If anybody tells?