A pair of brass-bound hickory pegs
Brought him his pence instead of legs.
A murky dog by him did lie,
Poodle, in part, his ancestry.
The angel stood and thought upon
This poodle-haunted beggar man.
"My life is grown a bore," said he,
"One long round of sciamachy;
I think I'll do a little good,
By way of change from angelhood."