But, I the stranger, knew that I must stay,
Pace up the weed-grown paths and down,
Till one afternoon—there is just a doubt—
But I fancy I heard a tiny shout—
From an upper window a bird flew out—
And I went my way.
THE SHADE-CATCHERS
I think they were about as high
As haycocks are. They went running by
Catching bits of shade in the sunny street: