Pope's sarcastic epigram, " engraved on the collar of a dog, which I gave to his Royal Highness," must not be omitted here. I am his Highness' dog at Kew; Pray tell me, Sir, whose dog are you?" No English writer has drawn the dog more happily than Walter Scott. As in the case of Bevis, his descriptions were no doubt often taken direct from individuals he knew; and with the love he had for them he drew them lovingly. In pathos, we have nothing of the kind which surpasses his verses on the dog of Helvellyn. HELVELLYN. 1805. "In the spring of 1805 a young gentleman of talents, and of a most amiable disposition, perished by losing his way on the mountain Helvellyn. His remains were not discovered till three months afterwards, when they were found guarded by a faithful terrier-bitch, his constant attendant during frequent solitary rambles through the wilds of Cumberland and Westmoreland." "I climb'd the dark brow of the mighty Helvellyn, Lakes and mountains beneath me gleam'd misty and wide; And starting around me the echoes replied. On the right, Striden-edge round the Red-tarn was bending, One huge nameless rock in the front was ascending, Where I mark'd the sad spot where the wand'rer had died. Dark green was that spot 'mid the brown mountain-heather, How long didst thou think that his silence was slumber? Ere he faded before thee, the friend of thy heart? When a Prince to the fate of the Peasant has yielded, With scutcheons of silver the coffin is shielded, And pages stand mute by the canopied pall: ; Through the courts, at deep midnight, the torches are gleaming; In the proudly-arch'd chapel the banners are beaming, Far adown the long aisle sacred music is streaming, But meeter for thee, gentle lover of Nature, To lay down thy head like the meek mountain-lamb, And more stately thy couch by this desert lake lying, Thy obsequies sung by the grey plover flying, With one faithful friend but to witness thy dying, Wordsworth likewise composed a poem on the same affecting and tragic event. |