Grief for her absent master in her wrought,
So I in pity took her out with me,
Though I would fain have walked alone, to be
Less hindered in the current of my thought:
And then I threw her sticks for which she ran;—
Who would not cheer a sorrow when he can?
After some miles we met at twilight pale
A neighbor of her master's passing by,
And, with blythe demonstration in her eye,
She turned and followed him along the vale.
So I walked on, companioned by the moon,
Well pleased that even a casual form or feature
Of the old times was dearer to the creature
Than the new friend of one bright afternoon.