Still half in dream, upon the stair I hear
A patter coming nearer and more near,
And then upon my chamber door
A gentle tapping;
And next a scuffle on the passage floor,
And after that a cry, half sneeze, half yapping;
And then I know that ‘Oscar’ lies to watch
Until the noiseless maid will lift the latch.
And like a spring
That gains its power by being tightly stayed
The impatient thing
Into the room
Its whole glad heart doth fling;
And ere the gloom
Melts into light and window-blinds are rolled,
I hear a leap upon the bed,
I feel a creeping towards me—a soft head,
And on my face
By way of an embrace
A tender nose and cold—
And on my hand like sun-warmed rose-leaves flung,
The least faint flicker of the gentlest tongue,
And so my dog and I have met and sworn
Fresh love and fealty for another morn.

(Poems at Home and Abroad, pp. 91-2)