To part disputing, shared their sorrow’s bed;
Their bed!—I shudder as I speak—and shared
Scraps to their hunger by the hungry spared.”—
“Man! my good Ellis! can you sigh?”—“I can:
In short, Sir Owen, I must feel as man;
And could you know the miseries they endured,
The poor, uncertain pittance they procured;
When, laid aside the needle and the pen,
Their sickness won the neighbours of their den,
Poor as they are—and they are passing poor— 740