Dora Sigerson Shorter

“ Neighbour! for pity a hound cries on your steps,
⁠With pleading eyes, with sore and weary feet.
Neighbour! your pity a poor beast doth implore;
⁠Hunger and cold are busy in the street.
Then, neighbour! pause; 'tis no good work you do.
“Off from my door! I have no place for you.”
Neighbour, your mercy! A heart of love is here.
⁠Within this weary body—love is rare.
And seldom comes to cry before our door.
⁠Then open wide, and take your little share.
Love pleads to be your servant, leal and true. ”