XXXVI.

Whate'er might be his worthlessness or worth, Poor fellow! he had many things to wound him. Let's own--since it can do no good on earth--[h] It was a trying moment that which found him Standing alone beside his desolate hearth, Where all his household gods lay shivered round him:[39] No choice was left his feelings or his pride, Save Death or Doctors' Commons--so he died.[i]