Of a small garret—a precarious home;
For that depended on the weekly pay,
And they were sorely frighten’d on the day.
But there they linger’d on from week to week,
Haunted by ills of which ’tis hard to speak;
For they are many and vexatious all,
The very smallest—but they none were small.
“The roof, unceil’d in patches, gave the snow
Entrance within, and there were heaps below;
I pass’d a narrow region dark and cold, 710