Thrown on the wide world, doom’d to wander and roam,

Bereft of my parents, bereft of a home,

A stranger to something and what’s his name joy,

Behold little Edmund the poor peasant boy.

Thrown on the wide world, doom’d to wander and roam, Bereft of my parents, bereft of a home, A stranger to something and what’s his name joy, Behold little Edmund the poor peasant boy.

—And equally,” said Mr. Wegg, repairing the want of direct application in the last line, “behold myself on a similar footing!”