Pensile at least I shall be, methought—sus per coll. surely!
And therewithal felt I my neckcloth; when lo! on a sudden,
There came on my eyes, hanging midway ’twixt heaven and St. James’s,
The book called the Pension List. There did I see my name written.
Yea even in that great book of life! It was sweet to my eye-lids.
As dew from a tax! and Infinity seem’d to be open,
And I said to myself. “Now a blessing be on thee, my Robert!
And a blessing on thee too my pen! and on thee too my sack-but!”
Now, as thus I was standing, mine ear heard a rap at the street-door,
Ev’n such as a man might make bold with, half gentle, half footman;