Ballade of Solitude
Thank Heaven, in these despondent days,
I have at least one faithful friend,
Who meekly listens to my lays,
As o’er the darkened downs we wend.
Nay, naught of mine may him offend;
In sooth he is a courteous wight,
His constancy needs no amend—
My shadow on a moonlight night.
Too proud to give me perjured praise,
He hearkens as we onward tend,
And ne’er disputes a doubtful phrase,
Nor says he cannot comprehend.
Might God such critics always send!
He turns not to the left or right,
But patient follows to the end—
My shadow on a moonlight night.
And if the public grant me bays,
On him no jealousies descend;
But through the midnight woodland ways,
He velvet-footed will attend;
Or where the chalk cliffs downward bend
To meet the sea all silver-bright,
There will he come, most reverend—
My shadow on a moonlight night.
Envoy.
O wise companion, I commend
Your grace in being silent quite;
And envy with approval blend—
My shadow on a moonlight night.
William Black.