Something Do I See Above The Fog That Sheets The Mead, A Figure Like To Life Indeed, Moving Along With Spectre-Speed, Seen By None But Me. O The Vision Keen! - Tripping Along To Me For Love As In The Flesh It Used To Move, Only Its Hat And Plume Above The Evening Fog-Fleece Seen. In The Day-Fall Wan, When Nighted Birds Break Off Their Song, Mere Ghostly Head It Skims Along, Just As It Did When Warm And Strong, Body Seeming Gone. Such It Is I See Above The Fog That Sheets The Mead - Yea, That Which Once Could Breathe And Plead! - Skimming Along With Spectre-Speed To A Last Tryst With Me.