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I could die’—to know’—
’Tis a trifling knowledge’—
News-Boys salute the Door’—
Carts’—joggle by’—
Morning’s bold face’—stares in the window’—
Were but mine’—the Charter of the least Fly’—
 
Houses hunch the House
With their Brick Shoulders’—
Coals’—from a Rolling Load’—rattle’—how’—near’—
To the very Square’—His foot is passing’—
Possibly, this moment’—
While I’—dream’—Here’—

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