DECEMBER 2011: “A Eulogy for Bobo...”
The time you won your town the race
We chaired you through the market-place;
Man and boy stood cheering by,
And home we brought you shoulder-high.
Smart dog, to slip betimes away
From fields where glory does not stay
And early though the laurel grows
It withers quicker than the rose...
Now you will not swell the rout
Of dogs that wore their honours out,
Runners whom renown did outrun
And the name died before the hound
And round that early-laurelled head
Will flock to gaze the strengthless dead,
And find unwithered on its curls
The garland briefer than a girl's."
"Now take back the soul of Bobo,
whom You have shared with us.
He brought us joy...
We loved him well.
He was not ours.
He was not mine."
[My apologies to A.E. Houseman...]
©2005-2012 Robert Simmons. All rights reserved.