Should you,

while wandering in the wild sheep land,

happen on moor or in market

upon a very perfect gentle knight,

clothed in dark gray habit,

splashed here and there with rays of moon: 

free by right divine

of guild of gentlemen,

strenuous as a prince,

lithe as a rowan,

graceful as a girl,

with high king carriage,

motions and manners of a fairy queen:

should he have a noble breadth of brow,

on air of still strength

born of right confidence, all unassuming:

 

last and most unfailing test of all,

should you look into two snow-clad eyes,

calm, wistful, inscrutable,

their soft depths clothed on with eternal sadness–

yearning, as is said,

for the soul that is not theirs- 

know then

that you look upon

one of the line of the most illustrious

sheepdogs of the North.

  

                                     Alfred Ollivant