WEARY already, weary miles to-night I walked for bed: and so, to get some ease, I dogged the flying moon with similes. And like a wisp she doubled on my sight In ponds; and caught in tree-tops like a kite; And in a globe of film all liquorish Swam full-faced like a silly silver fish;-- Last, like a bubble shot the welkin's height Where my road turned and got behind me, and sent My wizened shadow craning round at me, And jeered, 'So, step the measure,--one, two, three!'-- And if I faced on her, looked innocent. But just at parting, halfway down a dell, She kissed me for good-night. So you'll not tell. |