Thursday, April 11, 2013

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


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.

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