From a collection of dog poetry dated 1912: Here's Frederick Howard, the 5th Earl of Carlisle (1748-1825), with an epitaph for Rose, the family dog. * * * AN INSCRIPTION TO ROSE WHOE’ER thou art whom chance shall hither lead, O’er the green turf with friendly caution tread; For in the bosom of this beechen shade A lovely Favourite's bones in peace are laid. She asks no pity, your compassion spare, Soon your own woes may want the gushing tear. Happy her life. She ne’er affliction knew, Lov’d by her Mistress, to that Mistress true. And, if Pythagoras hath truly taught, That future joy by former merit’s bought, She may perhaps, changed to the snowy dove, Sleep in the bosom of the Queen of Love; Or haply may her beauteous form retain To scour with Dian's Nymphs the verdant plain. But to her soul should perfect bliss be given For virtues past, she asks no other Heaven, Than here again midst flowery fields to rave, And here again to share her Mistress’ love. * * * Bonus tidbit from...