He rushed on danger, his true heart his shield; Fear he had none whene’er his duty called. Oft clomb he to the roofs of burning houses; Sprang here and there, and bore off human creatures, Frantic with terror, or with terror dumb, Saving their lives at peril of his own. Such men as these are heroes! “One dark night, A stormy winter’s night, a fire broke out Somewhere by Rotherhithe—a dreadful fire— In midst of narrow streets where the tall houses Were habited by poor and squalid wretches, Together packed like sheep within their pens, And who, unlike the rich, had nought to offer For their lives’ rescue. Here the fire broke out, And raged with fury; here the fireman, John, ‘Mid falling roofs, on dizzy walls aloft, Through raging flames, and black, confounding smoke, And noise and tumult as of hell broke loose, Rushed on, and ever saved some sinking wretch. Many had thus been saved by his one arm, When some one said, that in a certain chamber, High up amid the burning roofs, still lay A sick man and his child, who, yesternight, Had hither come as strangers. They were left, By all forgotten, and must perish there. Whilst yet they spoke, upon a roof’s high ridge, Amid the eddying smoke and growing flame, The miserable man was seen to stand, Stretching his arms for aid in frantic terror. “Without a moment’s pause, amid the fire, Six stories high, sprang John, who caught the word That still a human being had been left. Quick as a thought o’er red-hot floors he leapt, Through what seemed gulfs of fire, on to the roof Where stood the frantic man. The crowds below Looked on and scarcely breathed. They saw him reach The yet unperished roof-tree—saw him pause— Saw the two men start back, as from each other. They raised a cry to urge him on. They knew not That here he met his former enemy— The man who had returned him evil for good! And who had lost his place for breach of trust Some twelvemonths past, and now had come to want. “The flames approached the roof. A cry burst forth Again from the great crowd, and women fainted. And what did John, think you—this city fireman? —He looked upon the abject wretch before him, Who fell into a swoon at sight of him, So sensitive is even an evil conscience, And, speaking not a word, lifted him up And bore him safely down into the street— Then shook him from him like a noisome thing! “Anon the man revived, and with quick terror Asked for his child—his little four years’ son— But he had been forgotten—still was left