And in Wisdom concluded what Folly began;
Then in silence his steps he was fain to resume,
Ere the shadowy fall of the thick-coming gloom.
Soon up from the shore, and away from the stream,
He wended as one that was wak’d from a dream,
For the voice of a thought had been heard in his heart,
And the lingering whisper was slow to depart.
His vine-cover’d home in the twilight was nigh,
And the whipporwill sending its plaint to the sky,
And the bark of his dog, and the voice at the door,