I sickened and sped. He laughed aloud,
"Wind for a mourner, snow for a shroud!"
On and on, half blown, half blind,
Shadow and self, and the wind behind!
I slackened, he slackened; I fled, he flew;
In a swirl of snow-drift all night through
I scoured along the gusty fen,
A quarry for hunting Kelpie men.
But only one could hold at my side:
"Brother, brother, I love thy stride.