The Stray
One dreary night when all seemed grey and cold I wandered up a squalid, dirty lane. Companionship I wanted more than gold Companionship, the prize I strove to gain.
Humanity turned in scorn and spurned him A mongrel good for nought they said was he. He—with loyalty in each shaggy limb A mongrel but a faithful friend to me.
Never will I forget that lonely night And the morbid thoughts I could not defend When something warm, wet made me turn in fright To see an ugly little dog—my friend.
Since then two comrades play—my dog and I, Oft when I look at those faithful, brown eyes And watch the white, stumpy tail held on high. I bless the friend who clears my clouded skies.
—2 marks to Cousin Enid Cockerell (13), 67 Cargill street, Dunedin.
Permanent link to this item
https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/ST19331014.2.139.29
Bibliographic details
Southland Times, Issue 22146, 14 October 1933, Page 19
Word Count
138The Stray Southland Times, Issue 22146, 14 October 1933, Page 19
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