Jack

YOU'RE only a dumb little dog, Jack, About ten or twelve pounds or so, And your wits must be all in a fog, Jack, If you have any wits, I know. But you've two such soft brown eyes, Jack, 5 And such long grey silky hair; And, what very much more I prize, Jack, Such a warm little heart in there. They say warm hearts are rare, Jack, And I almost believe that it's true; 10 But there ar'n't many hearts can compare, Jack, With that staunch little heart in you. Of course, we that speak and can read, Jack, Have plenty of friendships sweet; But, in spite of them all, there's a need, Jack, 15 For a friend like the friend at my feet. This planet must seem a queer place, Jack, To your poor little limited mind; For I fancy you never can trace, Jack, The reasons for half that you find. 20 You're not bothered with questions like us, Jack, About forces and morals and laws; And you never get worried or fuss, Jack, When you cannot discover a cause. But you go your own little way, Jack, 25 With a wag of the tail for a friend; And in spite of our talk, I dare say, Jack, That we don't do much more in the end.