The Penny Ye Meant to Gi’e

There’s a funny old tale of a stingy man, Who was none too good, though he might have been worse; Who went to church on a Sunday night, And carried along his well-filled purse. When the sexton came with his begging plate, The church was but dim with the candles’ light; The stingy man fumbled all through his purse, And chose a coin by touch, and not sight. It’s an odd thing now that guineas be So like unto pennies in shape and size, “I’ll give a penny,” the stingy man said; “The poor must not gifts of pennies despise.” The penny fell down with a clatter and ring; And back in his seat leaned the stingy man, “The world is so full of the poor,” he thought, “I can’t help them all—I give what I can.” Ha, ha! How the sexton smiled to be sure, To see the gold guinea fall into his plate; Ha, ha! How the stingy man’s heart was wrung, Perceiving his blunder, but just too late! “No matter,” he said, “in the Lord’s account That guinea of gold is set down to me, They lend to Him who give to the poor; It will not so bad an investment be.” “Na, na, mon,” the chuckling sexton cried out; “The Lord is no cheated—He kens thee well; He knew it was only by accident That out of thy fingers the guinea fell. “He keeps an account, no doubt, for the puir; But in that account He’ll set down to thee Na mair o’ that golden guinea, my mon, Than the one bare penny ye meant to gi’e!” There’s a comfort, too, in the little tale— A serious side as well as a joke; A comfort for all the generous poor In the honest words the sexton spoke. A comfort to think that the good Lord knows How generous we really desire to be, And will give us credit in His account For all the pennies we long to “gi’e.”