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.