I had not power to ask his name,
Whither he went, or whence he came;
Yet there was something in his eye
That won my love, I knew not why.
"Once when my scanty meal was spread,
He entered;—not a word he spake;—
Just perishing for want of bread,
I gave him all; he blessed it, brake,
And ate,—but gave me part again:
Mine was an angel's portion then,