He Wrote Poetry?

I'm embarrassed to say that I was not aware Mark Twain wrote poetry (and apparently Twain said he detested poetry).  I've read much of his "sketches," essays, A Tramp Abroad, Roughing It, and of course, I think we all had to read about Huck's adventures during high school.  So I was pleasantly surprised to catch some of his verse in "Brain Pickings," another great site for all things bookish/reading.  This one -- a short poem about the death of his dog, titled "My Dog Burns" -- is moving.

A young Mark Twain

MY DOG BURNS

No more shall bear beauteous form
Be seen in the raging storm.
No more shall her wondrous tail
Dodge the quickly dropping hail.

She lived a quiet harmless life
In Hartford far from madding strife;
Nor waged no War on peaceful rat
Nor battled with wild fierce tomcat.

No, No, my beloved, dear ’cause dead
What tough thy coat was a brick dust red?
Like a good author, thou was a trusty friend
And thy tail, like his, red to the very end.

You can read more here.