Please your Grace, from out your store <br />Give an alms to one that's poor, <br />That your mickle may have more. <br />Black I'm grown for want of meat, <br />Give me then an ant to eat, <br />Or the cleft ear of a mouse <br />Over-sour'd in drink of souce; <br />Or, sweet lady, reach to me <br />The abdomen of a bee; <br />Or commend a cricket's hip, <br />Or his huckson, to my scrip; <br />Give for bread, a little bit <br />Of a pease that 'gins to chit, <br />And my full thanks take for it. <br />Flour of fuz-balls, that's too good <br />For a man in needy-hood; <br />But the meal of mill-dust can <br />Well content a craving man; <br />Any orts the elves refuse <br />Well will serve the beggar's use. <br />But if this may seem too much <br />For an alms, then give me such <br />Little bits that nestle there <br />In the pris'ner's pannier. <br />So a blessing light upon <br />You, and mighty Oberon; <br />That your plenty last till when <br />I return your alms again.<br /><br />Robert Herrick<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-beggar-to-mab-the-fairy-queen/
