ELEGY ON THE DEATH OF A MAD DOG
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ood people all, of every sort,Give ear unto my song;And if you find it wond’rous short,It cannot hold you long. In Islington there was a man, 5Of whom the world might say,That still a godly race he ran,Whene’er he went to pray. A kind and gentle heart he had,To comfort friends and foes; 10The naked every day he clad,When he put on his clothes. And in that town a dog was found,As many dogs there be,Both mongrel, puppy, whelp, and hound, 15And curs of low degree. This dog and man at first were friends;But when a pique began,The dog, to gain some private ends,Went mad and bit the man. 20 Around from all the neighbouring streetsThe wond’ring neighbours ran,And swore the dog had lost his wits,To bite so good a man. The wound it seem’d both sore and sad 25To every Christian eye;And while they swore the dog was mad,They swore the man would die. But soon a wonder came to light,That show’d the rogues they lied: 30The man recover’d of the bite,The dog it was that died.
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