Was then unknown--indeed we know not now; But once at twilight walking up and down, In a poor alley of the mighty town, 240 Where, in her narrow courts and garrets, hide The grieving sons of genius, want, and pride, I met him musing; sadness I could trace, And conquer’d hope’s meek anguish, in his face. See him I must; but I with ease address’d, And neither pity nor surprise express’d; I strove both grief and pleasure to restrain, But yet I saw that I was giving pain. He said, with quick’ning pace, as loth to hold A longer converse, that ‘the day was cold, 250 That he was well, that I had scarcely light To aid my steps,’ and bade me then good night! “I saw him next where he had lately come, A silent pauper in a crowded room; I heard his name, but he conceal’d his face, To his sad mind his misery was disgrace; In vain I strove to combat his disdain Of my compassion----‘Sir, I pray, refrain;’ For I had left my friends and stepp’d aside, Because I fear’d his unrelenting pride. 260 “He then was sitting on a workhouse-bed, And on the naked boards reclined his head, Around were children with incessant cry, And near was one, like him, about to die; A broken chair’s deal bottom held the store That he required--he soon would need no more; A yellow tea-pot, standing at his side, From its half-spout the cold, black tea supplied. “Hither, it seem’d, the fainting man was brought, Found without food--it was no longer sought; 270 For his employers knew not whom they paid, Nor where to seek him whom they wish’d to aid. Here brought, some kind attendant he address’d, And sought some trifles which he yet possess’d; Then named a lightless closet, in a room Hired at small rate, a garret’s deepest gloom. They sought the region, and they brought him all That he his own, his proper wealth could call: A better coat, less pieced; some linen neat, Not whole; and papers, many a valued sheet-- 280 Designs and drawings; these, at his desire, Were placed before him at the chamber fire, And while th’ admiring people stood to gaze, He, one by one, committed to the blaze, Smiling in spleen; but one he held awhile, And gave it to the flames, and could not smile. “The sickening man--for such appear’d the fact-- Just in his need, would not a debt contract; But left his poor apartment for the bed That earth might yield him, or some way-side shed; 290 Here he was found, and to this place convey’d, Where he might rest, and his last debt be paid: Fame was his wish, but he so far from fame, } That no one knew his kindred, or his name, } Or by what means he lived, or from what place he came. } “Poor Charles! unnoticed by thy titled friend,