ST. ROCCO

Dominion, Volume 29, Issue 256, 25 July 1936, Page 25

ST. ROCCO

St. Rocco, the saint of the dogs, Was little and timid and brown. He walked the road in his sandalshoon, And clad in a russet gown. And as he went by dale and down, And over the crisping grass, The dogs would come from the tun and town. And gather ' here he would pass. The noble hound from the manorhouse. The mastiff from the moors, And the mongrel dog with the tufty ears, And the puppy with clumsy paws. And Rocco would preach on the wayside there, As Francis to the birds. Till their dumb deep eyes would shine so soft. At the magic of his words;

Of the dear Lord Christ and His gentleness - With all small hungry things, And his love for those who walk on fours. And those who go on wings. And they would listen with pricking i ears, And eyes of limpid brown, And the smallest puppy of all would tug And worry his homespun gown. Then he’d heal their hurts with his ' gentle hands. And each rough iiead caress. The collie and the tall deer-hound, • But the smallest one he'd bless. Then he’d go his way through the hawthorn lanes, : Past file rowan and the rose— May Christ be with his humble heart, Wherever Rocco goes!