A beggar met a gentleman one day
Between the castle and the Channel piers.
His Lordship stopped him to inquire the way
And thus allay his Lady's travelling fears.
The beggar wore a coat of tattered rag
All caked with filth and spotted by the rain;
Old age had made his features twist and sag,
And he breathed raggedly, as if in pain.
The gentleman repeated his request;
The beggar stared, and answer made he none,
But put his hand upon his Lordship's chest,
Moaned piteously, and like a mist was gone.
The Lord laughed to his Lady, seeming brave,
But slept a fortnight later in his grave.
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