Side by side.

 He took the silver dew

 And the dun red clay,

 And behold when he was through

 How fair were they!

 The braces of the sky

 Were in its girth,

47

 That it should feel no jar

 Of the swinging earth;

 That sun and wind might bleach

 But not destroy

 The house that he had builded

 For his joy.

 “Here will I stay,” he said,

 “And roam no more,

 And dust when I am dead

 Shall keep the door.”

 There trooping dreams by night

 Go by, go by.

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