ThoasHardy
IwentbytheDruidstone
Thatbroodsthegardenwhiteandlone,
AndIspedandlookedattheshiftgshadows,
Thatatsoontsfallthereon
Frothetreehardbywitharhythicsg,
Andtheyshapedyiagg
Totheshadethatawell-knownheadandshoulders
Threwtherewhenshewasgardeng.
Ithoughtherbehdyback,
Yea,herIlonghadlearock,
AndIsaid：“Iasureyouarestandgbehd,
Thoughhowdoyougettothisoldtrack？”
Andtherewasnosoundbutthefallofaleaf
Asasadresponse;andtokeepdownygrief
Iwouldnotturnyheadtodisver
Thattherewasnothgybelief.
YetIwaolookandsee
Thatnobodystoodatthebackof;
ButIthoughtonceore：“Nay,Illnotunvision
Ashapewhich,sohow,thereaybe.”
SoIwentonsoftlyfrothegde,
Aherbehdthroghershade,
Assheweredeedallapparition—
Myheadunturnedlestydreashouldfade.