To My Spaniel Fanny.

Fanny! were all the world like thee,
How cheerly then this life would glide,
Dear emblem of Fidelity!
Long may'st thou grace thy master's side.

Long cheer his hours of solitude,
With watchful eye each wish to learn,
And anxious speechless gratitude
Hail with delight each short sojourn.

When sick at heart, thy welcome home
A weary load of grief dispels,
Gladdens with hope the hours to come,
And yet a mournful lesson tells!

To find thee ever faithful, kind,
My guard by night, my friend by day,
While those in friendship more refined
Have with my fortunes flown away.

Why bounteous nature hast thou given
To this poor Brute--a boon so kind
As constancy--bless'd gift of Heaven!
And MAN--to waver like the wind?

Thomas Gent

Thomas Gent was an 18th-century English writer, printer, and bookseller, known predominantly for his historical works. Despite facing numerous financial difficulties, his passion for printing never waned, leading him to chronicle his experiences and the events of his time with a distinct personal touch. His works offer a vivid depiction of 18th-century English life, ensuring his place in literary history.

Thomas Gent

Rosa's Grave.

Thomas Gent, Simple Poetry

The Steam-Boat.

Thomas Gent, Simple Poetry

Hymn.

Thomas Gent, Simple Poetry

Sonnet. In The Manner Of The Moderns.

Thomas Gent, Simple Poetry

English

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To Flush, My Dog

Loving friend, the gift of one,
Who, her own true faith, hath run,
Through thy lower nature;
Be my benediction said
With my hand upon thy head,
Gentle fellow-creature!

Like a lady's ringlets brown,
Flow thy silken ears adown
Either side demurely,
Of thy silver-suited breast
Shining out from all the rest
Of thy body purely.

Darkly brown thy body is,
Till the sunshine, striking this,
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When the sleek curls manifold
Flash all over into gold,
With a burnished fulness.

Underneath my stroking hand,
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The Dog.

Of all the speechless friends of man
    The faithful dog I deem
Deserving from the human clan
    The tenderest esteem:

This feeling creature form'd to love,
    To watch, and to defend,
Was given to man by powers above,
    A guardian, and a friend!

I sing, of all e'er known to live
    The truest friend canine;
And glory if my verse may give,
    Brave Fido! it is thine.

A dog of many a sportive trick,
    Tho' rough and large of limb.
Fido would chase the floating stick
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And what command could Lucy give,
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For conscious of her every care
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Epistle To A Friend.

Give me the wreath of friendship true,
Whose flowerets fade not in a breath:
From memory gaining many a hue,
To bloom beyond the touch of death.

And I will send it to thy home--
Thy home beloved, my faithful friend!
And pray for its perpetual bloom
And every bliss that earth can send.

Within its magic wreath I'd place
Hearts'-ease and every lovely flower;
To win thee by their matchless grace,
And cheer and bless the lonely hour.

When at the world's unkind return
Of all thy worth, and all thy care,
Thou may'st in spite of manhood turn,
And shed the sad, the bitter, tear.

Then, midst this holy grief of thine,
The thought of some true friend may bless,
And cheer the gloom like angel's smile,
Or sunbeam in a wilderness.
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On The Death Of A Favourite Old Spaniel.

And they have drown'd thee then at last! poor Phillis!
The burthen of old age was heavy on thee.
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The wonted call that on thy dull sense sunk
With fruitless repetition, the warm Sun
Would still have cheer'd thy slumber, thou didst love
To lick the hand that fed thee, and tho' past
Youth's active season, even Life itself
Was comfort. Poor old friend! most earnestly
Would I have pleaded for thee: thou hadst been
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And, as I roam'd o'er Avon's woody clifts,
From many a day-dream has thy short quick bark
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The Chain-Pier, Brighton; A Sketch.

Hail, lovely morn! and thou, all-beauteous sea!
Sun-sparkling with the diamond's countless rays:
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Into a gentle ripple on the shore.

All hail, dear Woman! saving-ark of man,
His surest solace in this world of woe;
How cheering are thy smiles, which, like the breeze
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England may well be proud of scenes like this;
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Verses Selected From An Occasional Poem Entitled Valediction.

O Friendship! cordial of the human breast!
So little felt, so fervently professd!
Thy blossoms deck our unsuspecting years;
The promise of delicious fruit appears:
We hug the hopes of constancy and truth,
Such is the folly of our dreaming youth;
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And view with tears the expected harvest lost,
Decayd by time, or witherd by a frost.
Whoever undertakes a friends great part
Should be renewd in nature, pure in heart,
Prepared for martyrdom, and strong to prove
A thousand ways the force of genuine love.
He may be calld to give up health and gain,
To exchange content for trouble, ease for pain,
To echo sigh for sigh, and groan for groan,
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