








Poem XL.

Three weeks passed since I had seen her, --
  Some disease had vexed;
'T was with text and village singing
  I beheld her next,

And a company -- our pleasure
  To discourse alone;
Gracious now to me as any,
  Gracious unto none.

Borne, without dissent of either,
  To the parish night;
Of the separated people
  Which are out of sight?






