Classic Poem

Loved and loving, God her trust,
The shepherd's wife goes dust to dust;
Their dog, his eye half sad, half prompt to save.
Follows the coffin down into the grave.
Behind his man he takes his drooping stand,
The clods jar hollow on the coffin lid:
Startled, he lifts his head;
To that quick shudder of his master's pain,
He thrusts his muzzle deep into his hand
Solicitous, deeper, yet again.

No kind old pressure answers; shrinking back
Apart, perplexed with broken ties,
Yet loyal, grave-ward down he lies,
His muzzle flat along the snowy track.
The mourners part. The widowed shepherd goes
Homeward, yet homeless, through the mountain snows.
Him follows slowly, silently,
That dog. What a strange trouble in his eyes —
Something beyond relief!
Is it the creature yearning in dumb stress
To burst obstruction up to consciousness,
And fellowship in reason's grief?