This gentleman will only talk to us of dogs
Because he wishes to disguise that he's a poet, —
If he should mention lions, dolphins, frogs,
He thinks, by misadventure, we should know it!

He tells us things of white dogs, and of brown,
Of curious breeds with one distinctive spot,
Of all the dogs that ever walked this town,
Of dogs of his acquaintance that have not.

I cite a dog I once set eyes upon
Which, lacking doggy lore, I say looked like a swan;
He takes me, says, " That hound was bred in Russia,
Three such are owned by Henry, Prince of Prussia. "

O, modest violet! cowering in your green
Your scent betrays you though you are not seen!
Only unveterinary wights, like you and me,
Would see in dogs a swanny quality!