HE FOLLOWS HIMSELF
Reading edition
In a heavy time I dogged myself Along a louring way, Till my leading self to my following self Said: “Why do you hang on me So harassingly?”
“I have watched you, Heart of mine,” I cried, “So often going astray And leaving me, that I have pursued, Feeling such truancy Ought not to be.”
He said no more, and I dogged him on From noon to the dun of day By prowling paths, until anew He begged: “Please turn and flee!— What do you see?”
“Methinks I see a man,” said I, “Dimming his hours to gray. I will not leave him while I know Part of myself is he Who dreams such dree!”
“I go to my old friend’s house,” he urged, “So do not watch me, pray!” “Well, I will leave you in peace,” said I, “Though of this poignancy You should fight free:
“Your friend, O other me, is dead; You know not what you say.” —“That do I! And at his green-grassed door By night’s bright galaxy I bend a knee.”
—The yew-plumes moved like mockers’ beards, Though only boughs were they, And I seemed to go; yet still was there, And am, and there haunt we Thus bootlessly.