Charles Lamb

(10 February 1775 – 27 December 1834 / London)

Penny Pieces - Poem by Charles Lamb

'I keep it, dear papa, within my glove.'
'You do-what sum then usually, my love,
Is there deposited? I make no doubt,
Some penny pieces you are not without.'

'O no, papa, they'd soil my glove, and be
Quite odious things to carry. O no-see,
This little bit of gold is surely all
That I shall want; for I shall only call
For a small purchase I shall make, papa,
And a mere trifle I'm to buy mamma;
Just to make out the change: so there's no need
To carry penny pieces, sir, indeed.'

'O now I know then why a blind man said
Unto a dog which this blind beggar led,-
'Where'er you see some fine young ladies, Tray,
Be sure you lead me quite another way.
The poor man's friend fair ladies used to be;
But now I find no tale of misery
Will ever from their pockets draw a penny:'
The blind man did not see they wear not any.'

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Poem Submitted: Saturday, April 10, 2010

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