A Hen Was Walking On A Path

Of dust Roses occasional grew Where she trod Ah what wild country That! Bring me to it and build Me a humble bungalow And Leave me there unnoticed to the world. Come not, here, my friends This be our parting At least This be the parting knell In advance it will bar Future plan given My self suspension of Immortality As I was walking to my Hideaway The place of quiet Final permanent stay I met the hen Saluted spoke not Both went their way. My neighbor the hen is. Uncouth shadows in the Night Frighten me not For in the hen I see a neighbor. We speak not Yet Fear shuns this place Its desolation makes Fear, fear itself And shy away in the throes of night I saw around In the air Floating A thousand candle-lights And more I was not frightened. Desolation goes round Here all time All day all night All seasons all the skies The ardent heavens Silently just a verses distant the dust from the country lane is flying I saw the old sandals Of the old figure Passing Throwing off dust For Such the desolation That in that plain pervades That even this Figure rare That had roamed astray From other Ghosts and Shrouds Shied before close of night all far away.