Classic Poem

There's more than instinct in the jocund play
Of " Jack, " the little Scot, dear as a child.
Alas! that arrogance has so misstyled
The intelligence of brutes, and said them nay
At this life's close. Denying them, there may
Be no Supreme law such as man has filed
Against them. I could well be reconciled
To share with all of them a judgment-day
And life eternal. Not a blasphemous thought
(Witness, O Thou who knowest me) is mine:
But this dog's life, so innocent, is fraught
With intimations of such high design
That I could wish we never had been taught
To think man only holds the spark divine.