The Beggar

Encouraged by thy word Of promise to the poor; Behold, a beggar, Lord, Waits at thy mercy's door! No hand, no heart, O Lord, but thine, Can help or pity wants like mine. The beggar's usual plea Relief from men to gain, If offered unto thee, I know thou would'st disdain: And pleas which move thy gracious ear, Are such as men would scorn to hear. I have no right to say That though I now am poor, Yet once there was a day When I possessed more: Thou know'st that from my very birth, I've been the poorest wretch on earth. Nor can I dare profess, As beggars often do, Though great is my distress, My wants have been but few: If thou shouldst leave my soul to starve, It would be what I well deserve. 'Twere folly to pretend I never begged before; Or if thou now befriend, I'll trouble thee no more: Thou often hast relieved my pain, And often I must come again. Though crumbs are much too good For such a dog as I; No less than children's food My soul can satisfy: O do not frown and bid me go, I must have all thou canst bestow.