She saw him, she said

“Why, I saw you with the sexton, outside the church-door,
So I did not hurry me home,
Thinking you’d not be come,
Having something to him to say. —
Yes: ’twas you, Dear, though you seemed sad, heart-sore;
How fast you’ve got therefrom!

“I’ve not been out. I’ve watched the moon through the birch,
And heard the bell toll. Yes,
Like a passing soul in distress!” — I”
“But no bell’s tolled to-day?”...
His face looked strange, like the face of him seen by the church,
And she sank to musefulness.