LONE DOG
I’m a lean dog, a keen dog, a wild dog, and lone; I’m a rough dog, a tough dog, hunting on rny own; I’m a bad dog, a mad dog, teasing silly sheep; I love to sit and bay the moon, to keep fat souls from sleep. I’ll never be a lap dog, licking dirty feet, A sleek dog. a meek dog, cringing for my meat. Not for me the fireside, the well-filled plate, But shut door, and sharp stone, and cuff, and kick, and hate. Not for me the other dogs, running by my side, Some have run a short while, but none of them would bide. O, mine is still the lone trail, the hard trail, the best. Wide wind, and wild stars, and the hunger of the quest. —lrene R. McLeod.
Permanent link to this item
https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/SUNAK19270406.2.60.9
Bibliographic details
Sun (Auckland), Volume 1, Issue 13, 6 April 1927, Page 5
Word Count
136LONE DOG Sun (Auckland), Volume 1, Issue 13, 6 April 1927, Page 5
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