Read it through once

John Webster was clearly a man Who loved the traffic of the city — yet Who, like a sleepy king in a drama, knew Nothing of popularity, or how to count Its promises of happiness. He had an eye That could not be satisfied with the splendour Of houses and their merchandise; but loved The broken, the neglected, the down-at-heel, And all that the town throws out — he loved The secrets human beings hide from one another, And was content to know them and to hold them for a while.