Classic Poem

Tried and true, tried and true,
Pup, stay near me, I've none but you.
Years upon years of midnight days,
Weary travel on flinty ways,
Scorching sun and searching wind,
Thunder—and lightning too, but I'm blind—
Rain, and I hear the rich complain,
Chide, as they pass, at the pouring rain,
Snow and sleet on the heartless street,
Cold and frost till one's heart is lost.
Weather and want and endless woe,
Sun and rain and wind and snow,
That's our part of it, Pup, you know.

True and tried, true and tried,
Best of my friends since Betsy died.
I am hungry and you are lean,
Skin and bones and nothing between;
Skin and bones and nothing beside—
That's how Betsy took bad and died.
Ah! you rogue, you know there's a bite
To save your life in the bag to-night;
A crust and a bone—well, it is fly-blown—
And a mite for me for bread and tea.
Then sleep for sauce with our bite and sup
Cheers our nights in the straw, my Pup,
Charity never has puffed us up.

Tried and true, tried and true,
Pup, what's left on that bone to chew?
True and tried, true and tried,
Come and lie by your master's side,
Take your share of the musty straw,
Give me hold of your poor old paw.
It seems to-night I could nearly think
Betsy made me that tea to drink;
Old Sal brewed that, the cross-tongued cat,
She's off to bed and wishing me dead,
And we're bound too, to the land of Nod;
Scorned of men in the scheme of God,
Pup, it might be better below the sod.