The Walk...

You did not walk with me
Of late to the hill-top tree
By the gated ways,
As in earlier days;
You were weak and lame,
so you never came,
and I went alone, and I did not mind,
Not thinking of you as left behind.


I walked up there to-day
Just in the former way:
Surveyed around
The familiar ground
By myself again:
What difference, then ?
Only that underlying sense
Of the look of a room on returning thence...