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Rh And wondered with all comfort what might come To me, and what might never come to me; And when the time came for the long walk home With Isaac in the twilight, I could see The forest and the sunset and the sky-line, No matter where it was that I was looking: The flame beyond the boundary, the music, The foam and the white ships, and two old men Were things that would not leave me.—And that night There came to me a dream—a shining one, With two old angels in it. They had wings, And they were sitting where a silver light Suffused them, face to face. The wings of one Began to palpitate as I approached, But I was yet unseen when a dry voice Cried thinly, with unpatronizing triumph, "I've got you, Isaac; high, low, jack, and the game."

Isaac and Archibald have gone their way To the silence of the loved and well-forgotten. I knew them, and I may have laughed at them; But there's a laughing that has honor in it, And I have no regret for light words now. Rather I think sometimes they may have made