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Poem	I knew a man by sight, A blameless wight, Who, for a year or more, Had daily passed my door, Yet converse none had had with him. I met him in a lane, Him and his cane, About three miles from home, Where I had chanced to roam, And volumes stared at him, and he at me. In a more distant place I glimpsed his face, And bowed instinctively; Starting he bowed to me, Bowed simultaneously, and passed along. Next, in a foreign land I grasped his hand, And had a social chat, About this thing and that, As I had known him well a thousand years. Late in a wilderness I shared his mess, For he had hardships seen, And I a wanderer been; He was my bosom friend, and I was his. And as, methinks, shall all, Both great and small, That ever lived on earth, Early or late their birth, Stranger and foe, one day each other know.
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