Margaret Elizab Sangster

1838-1912 / USA

Lost Dog

I saw a little dog today,
And oh, that dog was lost;
He risked his anguished puppy life
With every street he crossed.
He shrank away from outstretched hands,
He winced at every hail -
Against the city's bigness he
Looked very small and frail.
Distrust lay in his tortured eyes,
His body shook with fright;
(I wondered when he'd eaten last -
And where he'd slept at night!)
I whistled, and I followed him,
And hoped that he might guess
That all my soul reached out to him,
And offered friendliness!
So many times I have been lost,
And lonely and afraid!
I followed through the crowded streets,
I followed - and I prayed.
And then the God of little things,
Who knows when sparrows fall,
Put trust into the puppy's heart
And made him heed my call. . . .
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