My Red Setter, Who Died In 1944 - Poem by Rodney Barnett
Just for a dog, our hearts are bled;
Those glistening eyes, that noble head,
That coat of rich and golden red
No more are seen, for Don is dead.
Such splendour fails not, as his breath -
Long as his memory lingereth
His beauty liveth on through death.
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Rodney Barnett's Other Poems
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You
Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep
Mary Elizabeth Frye