A LITTLE BLACK DOG
I wonder if Christ had a little black dog,
all curly and wooly like mine,
With two silky ears, and nose round and wet,
Two eyes brown and tender that shine?
I'm sure if He had, that that little black dog,
Knew right from the first he was God,
That he needed no proof that Christ was divine,
But just worshipped the ground where He trod.
I'm afraid that He hadn't because I have read,
How he prayed in the garden alone,
For all of His friends and disciples had fled,
Even Peter, the one called a "Stone".
And oh, I am sure that that little black dog,
With a true heart so tender and warm
Would never have left Him to suffer alone
But creeping right under his arm;
Would have licked those dear fingers in agony clasped,
And counting all favors but loss,
When they took Him away, would have trotted behind,
And followed Him right to the Cross.
I wonder if Christ had a little black dog,
all curly and wooly like mine,
With two silky ears, and nose round and wet,
Two eyes brown and tender that shine?
I'm sure if He had, that that little black dog,
Knew right from the first he was God,
That he needed no proof that Christ was divine,
But just worshipped the ground where He trod.
I'm afraid that He hadn't because I have read,
How he prayed in the garden alone,
For all of His friends and disciples had fled,
Even Peter, the one called a "Stone".
And oh, I am sure that that little black dog,
With a true heart so tender and warm
Would never have left Him to suffer alone
But creeping right under his arm;
Would have licked those dear fingers in agony clasped,
And counting all favors but loss,
When they took Him away, would have trotted behind,
And followed Him right to the Cross.
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