Explore "Inscription on the Monument of a Newfoundland Dog" by Lord Byron on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
When some proud son of man returns to earth, / Unknown to glory, but upheld by birth, / The sculptor's art exhausts the pomp of woe, / And storied urns record who rest below: / When all is done, upon the tomb is seen, / Not what he was, but what he should have been: / But the poor dog, in life the firmest friend, / The first to welcome, foremost to defend, / Whose honest heart, is still his master's own, / Who labours, fights, lives, breathes for him alone, / Unhonour'd falls, unnoticed all his worth, / Denied in heaven the soul he held on earth, / While man, vain insect! hopes to be forgiven, / And claims himself a sole exclusive heaven.
Oh man! thou feeble tenant of an hour, / Debased by slavery, or corrupt by power, / Who knows thee well must quit thee with disgust, / Degraded mass of animated dust! / Thy love is lust, thy friendship all a cheat, / Thy smiles hypocrisy, thy words deceit! / By nature vile, ennobled but by name, / Each kindred brute might bid thee blush for shame.