I Really Cannot Know Whether I Am

The Poor Dog, In Life The Firmest Friend, The First To Welcome, Foremost To Defend, Whose Honest Heart Is Still The 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.

The Premises Are So Delightfully Extensive, That Two People Might Live Together Without Ever Seeing, Hearing Or Meeting.

'tis Pleasant, Sure, To See One's Name In Print. A Book's A Book, Although There's Nothing In 't.

Well, Well, The World Must Turn Upon Its Axis, And All Mankind Turn With It, Heads Or Tails, And Live And Die, Make Love And Pay Our Taxes, And As The Veering Winds Shift, Shift Our Sails.

Pure Friendship's Well-feigned Blush.