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1824–1905

LOST BUT SAFE.

George MacDonald

Lost the little one roams about, Pathway or shelter none can find; Blinking stars are coming out; No one is moving but the wind;

It is no use to cry or shout, All the world is still as a mouse; One thing only eases her mind: “Father knows I'm not in the house!”

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LOST BUT SAFE. · George MacDonald · Poetry Cove