[ Hood / "Dog-grel Verses. By A Poor Blind" ]
This comic poem — and that's not a typo; the subtitle of this poem actually is "By A Poor Blind," without the word "man" or "beggar" — is presented as spoken by a blind beggar who lists all the dogs he's ever had and why none have ever worked out well for him. It's a light, amusing work; the full text is available here at GoogleBooks.
Below is the stanza mentioning the blind beggar's Newfoundland:
My next was a Newfoundland brute,
As big as a calf fit for slaughter;
But my old cataract
So truly he back'd
I always fell into the water.
The text of this poem is taken from The Comic Annual for 1834, published by Charles Tilt in London, p. 154. I have not yet been able to determine if this poem was first published any earlier than this.