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vas’ sal roy’ al ly beg’ gar y hom’ age sen’ ti nel dif’ fer ence
TO MY DOG BLANCO.
My dear, dumb friend, low lying
A willing vassal at my feet,
Glad partner of my home and fare,
My shadow in the street.
I look into your great brown
Where love and loyal homage shine,
And wonder where the difference lies
Between your soul and mine!
For all the good that I have
Within myself or human kind,
Hath royally informed and crowned
Your gentle heart and mind.
I scan the whole broad earth
For that one heart which, leal and true,
Bears friendship without end or bound,
And find the prize in you.
I trust you as I trust the stars;
Nor cruel loss, nor scoff of pride,
Nor beggary, nor dungeon bars,
Can move you from my side!
As patient under injury
As any Christian saint of old,
As gentle as a lamb with me,
But with your brothers bold;
More playful than a frolic boy,
More watchful than a sentinel,
By day and night your constant joy
To guard and please me well.
I clasp your head upon my breast—
The while you whine and lick my hand—
And thus our friendship is confessed,
And thus we understand!
Ah, Blanco! did I worship God
As truly as you worship me,
Or follow where my Master trod
With your humility,—
Did I sit fondly at His feet,
As you, dear Blanco, sit at mine,
And watch Him with a love as sweet,
My life would grow divine!
From “The Complete Poetical Writings of J.G. Holland.”
[Footnote 003: Copyright, 1879, 1881, by Charles Scribner’s Sons.]
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LEAL (l[=e]l), loyal, faithful.
DUNGEON (d[)u]n’ j[)u]n), a close, dark prison, commonly underground.
Tell what is meant by the terms, dumb friend; willing vassal; glad partner; my shadow; human kind; frolic boy.
What duty does Blanco teach his master?
Memorize the last two stanzas of the poem.
The three great divisions of time are past, present, future. Tell what time each of the following action-words expresses:
found, find, have found, will find, bears, shall bear, has borne, crowned, will crown, did crown, crowns.
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ab’bot clois’ter min’ster li’brary chron’ i cle
A STORY OF A MONK.
Many hundreds of years ago there dwelt in a cloister a monk named Urban, who was remarkable for his earnest and fervent piety. He was a studious reader of the learned and sacred volumes in the convent library. One day he read in the Epistles of St. Peter the words, “One day is with the Lord as a thousand years, and a thousand years as one day;” and this saying seemed impossible in his eyes, so that he spent many an hour in meditating upon it.