  H e only looked like a Beggar-man, As ragged, just, as any. But he might have been an Angel, too. So I gave him my penny. I waited, till I thought I saw Him shining through. And when he Held out his hand, I watched for what Would happen to my penny. He might have been an Angel, too! But I know he wasn't any. For he frowned at me, like that, you see, When it wasn't but One penny. And now that's gone; and I don't care. I'd rather not have any, Than keep it, if an Angel came And asked me for my penny. |
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