I passed through the lonely Indian town,
Deep sunk 'twixt the walls of wheat,
And the dogs that lived in the land came down
And bayed at me in the street.
But I struck with my dog-whip o'er nose and back
Of the yelping, yellow crew,
Till I cleared a pathway athwart the pack,
And I and my horse went through.
I passed through the streets of my haunted heart,
In the hush of a hopeless night;
And from every gully a dog would start
And bay my soul with affright.
But I smote with the dog-whip of Work and Fact
These evil beasts on the head,
Till I made of my heart a wholesome tract,
Empty and garnishèd.