He Follows Himself

In a heavy time I dogged myself     Along a louring way,     Till my leading self to my following self     Said: "Why do you hang on me     So harassingly?"     "I have watched you, Heart of mine," I cried,     "So often going astray     And leaving me, that I have pursued,     Feeling such truancy     Ought not to be."     He said no more, and I dogged him on     From noon to the dun of day     By prowling paths, until anew     He begged: "Please turn and flee! -     What do you see?"     "Methinks I see a man," said I,     "Dimming his hours to gray.     I will not leave him while I know     Part of myself is he     Who dreams such dree!"     "I go to my old friend's house," he urged,     "So do not watch me, pray!"     "Well, I will leave you in peace," said I,     "Though of this poignancy     You should fight free:     "Your friend, O other me, is dead;     You know not what you say."     - "That do I! And at his green-grassed door     By night's bright galaxy     I bend a knee."     - The yew-plumes moved like mockers' beards,     Though only boughs were they,     And I seemed to go; yet still was there,     And am, and there haunt we     Thus bootlessly.