Classic Poem

Kind Christian souls who pass me by
On business intent,
I pray you think on such as I
Who pine in banishment.
I wear a little coat of red,
'A little bonnet on my head.
Kind gentles, throw a coin to me
And God reward your charity.

My master grinds the music out
To cheer the sullen street;
The children gather round about
And dance with joyous feet.
Have pity on the poor old man
And give him pennies all who can;
Have pity on his monkey too,
And God be pitiful to you.

Once long ago my heart was light
Amongst my brethren in the south,
Fulfilled with joy I slept at night
The taste of mangoes in my mouth.
But now I go from door to door.
Have pity, gentles, on the poor.
My master is both weak and old,
And I am trembling in the cold.

Your kitchens have a fragrant scent
With pies and puddings on each side,
I wish you all much merriment
And peace and love this Christmastide.
If you have nuts or fruit for me
God will reward your charity;
For if you give the poor their share
God will not leave your platters bare.