(Oct. 11, 1886)
A MEMORY OF WILLIAM BARNES

   Silently I footed by an uphill road
   That led from my abode to a spot yew-boughed;
Yellowly the sun sloped low down to westward,
        And dark was the east with cloud.

   Then, amid the shadow of that livid sad east,
   Where the light was least, and a gate stood wide,
Something flashed the fire of the sun that was facing it,
        Like a brief blaze on that side.

   Looking hard and harder I knew what it meant -
   The sudden shine sent from the livid east scene;
It meant the west mirrored by the coffin of my friend there,
        Turning to the road from his green,

   To take his last journey forth—he who in his prime
   Trudged so many a time from that gate athwart the land!
Thus a farewell to me he signalled on his grave-way,
        As with a wave of his hand.

WINTERBORNE-CAME PATH.