See there with count’nance blithe,
And with a courtly grin, the fawning hound
Salutes thee cow’ring, his wide op’ning nose
Upward he curls, and his large sloe-black eyes
Melt in soft blandishments and humble joy;
His glossy skin, or yellow-pied, or blue,
In lights or shades by Nature’s pencil drawn,
Reflects the various tints; his ears and legs,
Fleckt here and there, in gay enamel’d pride,
Rival the speckled pard; his rush-grown tail
O’er his broad back bends in an ample arch;
On shoulders clean, upright and firm he stands;
His round cat-foot, straight hams, and wide-spread thighs,
And his low-dropping chest, confess his speed,
Or far extended plain; in ev’ry part
So well proportion’d, that the nicer skill
Of Phidas himself can’t blame thy choice.
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