LONE DOG
I'm a leandog, a keen dog, a wild dog, and lone;
I'm a rough dog, a tough dog, hunting on my 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,
Wide wind, and wild stars, and hunger of the quest!
Irene Rutherford McLeod
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