Who  was  owing  me  money,  or  ought
To  be  paid  what  I  owed,  unawares.
Strange   things   by  that   search   were

revealed,
Old  stories  not  good  to  recall.
Things  that   Fate,  too,  for  ever  had

sealed,
Wrongs  that  could  not  be  righted  at  all.
Who  shall  ope  all  his  cupboards,  and

find
Nothing  there  to  repent  or  regret,
No  scraps  of  old  writing  that  blind
With  tears  the  dim  eyes  that  they  wet  ?

Yet  'twas  good  for  me  so  to  review
My  former  life,  scene  after  scene  ;
It  gave  me  some  thoughts  that  were  new,
And  revived  better  thoughts  that  had

been.
It  shamed  me  no  less,  here  and  there.
And  it  set  me  to  putting  things  right ;
But  on  this  one  perplexing  affair
It  shed  not  a  glimmer  of  light.
Not  a  drop  of  his  blood  had  I  shed,
Not  a  livre  was  he  in  my  debt,
Not  a  card  with  him  e'er  had  I  played,
Nor  as  rivals  in  love  had  we  met.
I  was  baffled,  and  threw  myself  down
Ont  he  close-shaven  grass  of  the  Park,
And  heard  the  far  hum  of  the  town,
And  the  clear  even-song  of  the  lark.
Then  all  of  a  sudden,  when  I
With  long,  fruitless  searching  was  spent,
Half-minded  no  longer  to  try,
Lo  !   one  unconnected  event,


Which,  neither  before  nor  behind.
Had  linked  itself  on  to  my  thought.
Broke  clear  as  a  star  on  my  mind,
And  I  knew  I  had  found  what  I  sought.
One  moment  the  curtain  concealed
Every  hint  of  the  scene  and  the  play  ;
Then  Phew  !  all  the  stage  was  revealed
In  the  blaze  of  a  bright  summer  day ;
And  I  knew  that  I  had  him  at  last.
