My brothers, when they saw me wearied out
With this long way, resolving here to lodge
Under the spreading favor of these pines,
Stepped, as they said, to the next thicket-side 185
To bring me berries, or such cooling fruit
As the kind hospitable woods provide.
They left me then when [the gray-hooded Even],
[Like a sad votarist in palmer’s weed],
Rose from the hindmost wheels of Phœbus’ wain. 190
But where they are, and why they came not back,