  Sorrow has come to me, Making the world to be Of sunken cheek; Faded my fields, and of Names that were most to love, I dare not speak. Would that my soul were blind, Since duty brings to mind All that is done, Saying, ‘How gladly you Walked with your chosen few Under my sun.’ I am an alien now; Tell me, good stranger, how Best may be borne His grief who comes at night To his own window-light Friendless, forlorn. No. I will pass. Again Of my delight in men Nothing shall tell. Now is my travel where My lost companions fare; Onward. Farewell.
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