Few facts will better illustrate the vast scale on which almost everything presents itself in the English metropolis, even so humble a subject as that of poor dogs that have temporarily lost their masters, than one mentioned in the Annual Report of the Chief Commissioner of Police. He informs us that nearly nineteen thousand (more than 18,800) stray dogs were taken charge of by the police in the metropolis during the year 1876! A little romance might be mixed up with the story of most of these homeless wanderers, if we could but know it: how Carlo or Boxer was distressed at losing his protector. The animals were either taken for a while to the Dogs’ Home at Battersea, or were otherwise provided for.
O Noble heart! so gentle, kind; Thy life, like a brief summer wind, Hath passed away, And left me here on earth to mourn Thine early flight to that sweet bourne Where angels stay.
There may my soul from slumber ’wake When heaven and earth their concord break, And Time is o’er; When Christ, in his enthroned array, Proclaims aloud his Advent Day From shore to shore!
There may we meet at last and find (Mind, heart, and soul for aye entwined) Eternal rest; There tread together Eden’s bowers— The land of life and light and flowers— With souls as blest.
Brief was thy sojourn here, sweet girl; And life, with all its glittering whirl, Soon passed thee by; Leaving the flower to droop unseen, The world rolled on, not heeding e’en Thy dying cry.
In that dark hour, thy fleeting soul, Regardless of Death’s stern control, Broke forth in song; And as the falt’ring numbers came, By angels fair thy hallowed fame Was borne along.
O well-beloved! enseamed in light, If thou canst gaze upon my night Of lonely grief: Behold me now, and mark the tears That still must flow through future years Without relief.
Yet the dread tomb which steals away From brightest gem its purest ray— The Life sublime! Must know we can its power defy, For thou art safe beyond the sky, And for all time.
Yea; thou art safe with that great God Who rules Creation with a rod Of love and light; The Being of a glorious mien, Whose majesty is Grand, Serene, And Infinite!
Oh, better far thou shouldst be there, Removed from this world’s doubt and care— A gloomy train; Full-veiled in peerless robes of light, Enthroned where comes nor storm, nor night, Nor grief, nor pain.