Please, ma'am, hear my prayerful pleading, For my mother's very poor; I have come to ask a penny: Do not turn me from your door! Mother's sick, and weak, and feeble, And she sent me on the street, With my little empty basket - For we've nothing home to eat!
Chorus. - Please, ma'am, wont you give me something? I'll not come here any more; God will bless you - won't you please, ma'am? Do not turn me from from your door!
Please, ma'am, wait, and let me tell you That my father's drowned at sea, And my poor, heart-broken mother Has no children, ma'am, but me. Do not spurn me, - do not shun me, - I'm a child, and nothing more; Give me something, if but pity! Do not turn me from your door.
Please, ma'am, just one moment listen! You are rich and we are poor: I'll go home and say to mother That you turned me from your door. Good bye! We can starve and suffer, Yet we'll look to God, and pray That when you go to Him begging, He'll not turn your soul away!
BIRCH PRINTING COMPANY, EDWARD RANKLE, Manager, 416 W. BALTIMORE ST., Baltimore, Md.
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