Canis Domini (The disciple)

Canis Domini (The disciple)

(The Saviour of the World, Vol IV, Book II, Poem XXXVI)

St. Jerome and His Dog, by Carpaccio

The dogs are fed:” Lord, e’en as these I’d be,

But not alone for crumbs:

The happy dog doth still his master see,

And at his call he comes.

So, blissful, would I raise dumb eyes of love,

Would lie low at Christ’s feet;

My Master’s hand stretched to me from above—

Were any joy so sweet?

And when my Master’s chariot forth should go,

Though inarticulate,

I’d run and tell the news to high and low,—

That all might see His State.

He bids me gather in His wandering sheep?

I’d race to furthest field,

And from all harms the silly wanderers keep,

That I full tale might yield.

And when my restless ways disturbed my Lord

He would but say, “Lie down;”—

A sudden stillness takes me at His word;

My turbulence is gone.

Sometimes He gives me precious thing to guard,

A lamb, a little child;

Beside it, trusty, I’d keep steadfast ward—

By bribes all unbeguiled.

And every day My Master’s voice I’d hear

Bidding me come or go;

And, looking up, would read in Countenance dear

All such as I may know.