I watched her departure, as one watches a sunset.

She went like a radiance through the dark wood, which was henceforth bright to me, from simply knowing that such a creature was in it.
She was bearing the sun to the unsunned spots.

The light and the music of her broken globe were now in her heart and her brain.

As she went, she sang; and I caught these few words of her song; and the tones seemed to linger and wind about the trees after she had disappeared: Thou goest thine, and I go mine-- Many ways we wend; Many days, and many ways, Ending in one end.
Many a wrong, and its curing song; Many a road, and many an inn; Room to roam, but only one home For all the world to win.
And so she vanished.

With a sad heart, soothed by humility, and the knowledge of her peace and gladness, I bethought me what now I should do.