I Saw Him As He Went With Merry Voice And Eye. I Met Him When He Came Back, Tired But The Same-- The Same Clear Voice, Bright Eye, Merry Laugh, Quick Reply. And Now, If I But Look Unnoting At A Book, Or From The Window Stare At Dark Woods Newly Bare, I See That Shining Eye, The Same As When He Went: --But Whose Is The Low Sigh, The Cold Shade O'Er Me Bent?