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Poem	It was far in the sameness of the wood; I was running with joy on the Demon's trail, Though I knew what I hunted was no true god. i was just as the light was beginning to fail That I suddenly head--all I needed to hear: It has lasted me many and many a year. The sound was behind me instead of before, A sleepy sound, but mocking half, As one who utterly couldn't care. The Demon arose from his wallow to laugh, Brushing the dirt from his eye as he went; And well I knew what the Demon meant. I shall not forget how his laugh rang out. I felt as a fool to have been so caught, And checked my steps to make pretense I was something among the leaves I sought (Though doubtful whether he stayed to see). Thereafter I sat me against a tree.
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