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Diamond Paws
Author: Elise Thomas, Reprinted with permission
Whilst
rambling on the moors today,
I came upon a wond'rous site,
The cast of dog all done in bronze,
That stood upon a stone of white.
I stopp'd to look and gaze a while,
And read the words in stone were set,
By some hand, the following words,
"Bonny Jock O the Moors, we'll no forget."
Returning home, I stopp'd to talk,
With an old man sitting by the by,
I told him of the tomb I'd seen,
And asked of him the reason why.
`Tis the grave of Jock O the Moors'
He said, with tone as gravid as his face,
`A bonny dog, that all mistook for bad,
And yet returned to save this place,
`T'were many years since Jock arrived,
Beside a man of darkened look,
The townsfolk drove them to the Moors,
They had no need of dog nor crook.'
`The out-turned man returned one night,
Set out to teach the town a trick,
Set fire to each building there he did,
With vengence and his flaming stick.'
`He laugh'd to see the town alight,
And when all was burning, turn'd and left,
The townsfolk wept to see their plight,
Their houses burning, all were bereft.'
`And then a cry, a child was lost! Alas,
Was trapp'd midst the burning wreck,
Of flaming timber, choking smoke,
That water flung could not hope to check.'
`And suddenly heard, a baying din,
A small brown dog, hurtled to the fray,
And was lost within the searing flames,
That made the dark night seem as day.'
`When all seemed lost, and both had died,
Appeared through the fire, a startled child,
Singed all about, yet still unharmed,
Brought by the dog, deemed bad and wild.'
`Snatch'd by the folk, with loving arms,
The townsmen armed with water tried,
Yet as they did, the timbers crashed,
And fell, with small brown dog inside.'
`When the fires had ceased to burn,
And townsfolk started to take stock,
Of all they lost, a brass tag was found,
Inscribed with a single name `Jock'.'
That day they set the white stone there,
The blacksmith cast a statue true,
O the wee brown dog, that saved a life,
Though of them all, he never knew.'
`A sturdy dog, of shortened leg,
Broad of head, and wide of chest,
With laughing mouth, an cheerful eye,
With disposition, angel blest.'
`An never again did they turn away,
Poor wandering folk, for they did regret,
Mistreating the man, who brought the dog,
And of Jock O the Moors, did never forget'
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