POETRY
SIRIUS
ORION, with his ancient sword, blue burnished by the night,. Girds on his belt, while Dian bends her bow of slender light Against the flutt'ring Pleiades, whose winking pinions wheel, And Sirius snaps a chain of stars to reach his master's heel.
Oh! does he hear-the fretful barks, the wheezy snores and yaps Of earthly dogs, who fret and strain to scud from silken laps ? For them no rabbit-quickened woods, no riddled river bogs, No racing scent with bracken blent, for they are motor dogs.
Oh ! Sirius, Star of Dogs to whom fond doggy spirits cry, Bid Jove send down a thunderbolt to whicker through the sky ! To smite and slay them where they stand, who sell for cushioned ease, Another's birthright of the woods and squirrel-haunted trees.
When amber eyes are growing dim, and dry each thrusting nose, Then bid Orion call to heel the questing souls of those, Who never knew the darting scents of meadows wreathed with mist, Who never tracked a rabbit down, when skies were amethyst So call them up and let them range, from dusk till dawn of day The dark blue mountains of the sky and down the Milky Way ; Diana needs a pack of hounds to chase the shining Bear, And though the Star of Dogs, you may perchance be lonely there. BARBARA EUPIIAN TODD.
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