You may have met a man -- quite young --
A brisk-eyed youth, and highly strung:
      One whose desires
  And inner fires
          Moved him as wires.
 
And you may have met one stiff and old,
If not in years; of manner cold;
      Whos seemed as stone,
  And never had known
          Of mirth or moun.
 
And there may have crossed your path a lover,
In whose clear depths you could discover
      A staunch, robust,
  And tender trust,
          Through storm and gust.

And you may have also known one fickle,
Whose fancies changed as the silver sickle
      Of yonder moon,
  Which shapes so soon
          To demilune!
 
You entertained a person once
Whom you internally  deemed a dunce: -
      As he sat in view
  Just facing you
          You saw him through.
 
You came to know a learned seer.
Of whom you read the surface mere:
      Your soul quite sank;
  Brain of such rank
          Dubbed yours a blank.
 
Anon you quizzed a man of sadness,
Who never could have known true gladness
      Just for a whim
  You pitied him
          In his sore trim
 
You journeyed with  a man so glad
You never could conceive him sad:
      He proved to be
  Indubitably
          Good company.
 
You lit on an un adventurous slow man
Who, said you, need be feared by no man;
      That his slack deeds
  And sloth must needs
          Produce but weeds.
 
A man of enterprise, shrewd and swift,
Who never suffered affairs to drift,
      You eyed for a time
  Just in his prime,
          And judged he might climb.
 
You smoked beside one who forgot
All that you said, or grasped it not.
      Quite a poor thing
  Not worth a sting
          By satirizing!
 
Next year you nearly lost for ever
Goodwill from one who forgot slights never;
      And, with unease,
  Felt you must seize
          Occasion to please...
 
Now... All these specimens of man,
So various in their pith and plan,
      Curious to say
  Were one man. Yea,
          I was all they.