Beaten by drunkards and cowed --
Frightened to speak or to sob --
How could he ask you aloud,
"~Have you a penny for Bob?~"
Few were the pennies he got --
Seldom could hide them away,
Watched by the ravenous sot
Ever at wait for his prey.
Poor little man! He would weep
Oft for a morsel of bread;
Coppers he wanted to keep
Went to the tavern instead.
This was his history, friend --
Ragged, unhoused, and alone;
How could the child comprehend
Love that he never had known?
Hunted about in the world,
Crouching in crevices dim,
Crust with a curse at him hurled
Stood for a kindness with him.
Little excited his joy --
Bun after doing a job;
Mother of bright-headed boy,
Think of the motherless Bob!
High in the heavens august
Providence saw him, and said --
"~Out of the pits of the dust
Lift him, and cover his head.~"
Ah, the ineffable grace,
Father of children, in Thee!
Boy in a radiant place,
Fanned by the breeze of the sea --
Child on a lullaby lap
Said, in the pause of his pain,
"~Mother, don't bury my cap --
Give it to Bob in the lane.
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