I went by the Druid stone br That broods in the garden white and lone, br And I stopped and looked at the shifting shadows br That at some moments fall thereon br From the tree hard by with a rhythmic swing, br And they shaped in my imagining br To the shade that a well-known head and shoulders br Threw there when she was gardening. br br I thought her behind my back, br Yea, her I long had learned to lack, br And I said: ‘I am sure you are standing behind me, br Though how do you get into this old track?’ br And there was no sound but the fall of a leaf br As a sad response; and to keep down grief br I would not turn my head to discover br That there was nothing in my belief. br br Yet I wanted to look and see br That nobody stood at the back of me; br But I thought once more: ‘Nay, I’ll not unvision br A shape which, somehow, there may be.’ br So I went on softly from the glade, br And left her behind me throwing her shade, br As she were indeed an apparition— br My head unturned lest my dream should fade.