Shapes and Shadows — Comrades

COMRADES.

Down through the woods, along the way That fords the stream; by rock and tree, Where in the bramble-bell the bee Swings; and through twilights green and gray The red-bird flashes suddenly, My thoughts went wandering to-day.

I found the fields where, row on row, The blackberries hang black with fruit;

Where, nesting at the elder's root, The partridge whistles soft and low;

The fields, that billow to the foot Of those old hills we used to know.

There lay the pond, still willow-bound, On whose bright surface, when the hot Noon burnt above, we chased the knot Of water-spiders; while around Our heads, like bits of rainbow, shot The dragonflies without a sound.

The pond, above which evening bent To gaze upon her rosy face;

Wherein the twinkling night would place A vague, inverted firmament, In which the green frogs tuned their bass, And firefly sparkles came and went.

The oldtime woods we often ranged, When we were playmates, you and I;

The oldtime fields, with boyhood's sky Still blue above them!

--Naught was changed!

Nothing!

--Alas, then tell me why Should we be?

whom long years estranged.