THE EXPLANATION LOVE and Death once ceased their strife Called for wine, and threw-alas! - When the bout was o'er they found Thus it was they wrought our woe Tell me, do our masters know, Old men love while young men die? THE GIFT OF THE SEA THE dead child lay in the shroud, And the widow watched beside; And her mother slept, and the Channel swept The gale in the teeth of the tide. But the mother laughed at all. "I have lost my man in the sea, And the child is dead. Be still," she said, "What more can ye do to me?" The widow watched the dead, And the candle guttered low, And she tried to sing the Passing Song And "Mary take you now," she sang, And "Mary smooth your crib to-night," Then came a cry from the sea, But the sea-rime blinded the glass, And "Heard ye nothing, mother?" she said, "'Tis the child that waits to pass." And the nodding mother sighed. "O feet I have held in my hand, How should they know the road to go, They laid a sheet to the door, With the little quilt atop, That it might not hurt from the cold or the dirt, But the crying would not stop. The widow lifted the latch And strained her eyes to see, And opened the door on the bitter shore There was neither glimmer nor ghost, And "Heard ye nothing, mother?" she said, "Tis crying for me in the dark." And the nodding mother sighed: Have ye yet to learn the cry of the tern, 66 The terns are blown inland, The gray gull follows the plough. 'Twas never a bird, the voice I heard, O mother, I hear it now!" "Lie still, dear lamb, lie still; The child is passed from harm, 'Tis the ache in your breast that broke your rest, And the feel of an empty arm." She put her mother aside, "In Mary's name let be! For the peace of my soul I must go," she said, And she went to the calling sea. In the heel of the wind-bit pier, Where the twisted weed was piled, She came to the life she had missed by an hour, For she came to a little child. She laid it into her breast, And back to her mother she came, But it would not feed and it would not heed, And the dead child dripped on her breast, EVARRA AND HIS GODS Read here: This is the story of Evarra- ·man- So that no man should maim him, none should steal, When he was weary after toil, he made And worshipped by the King; but, drunk with Because the city bowed to him for God, He wrote above the shrine: "Thus Gods are made, And whoso makes them otherwise shall die." And all the city praised him. . . Then he died. Read here the story of Evarra man Maker of Gods in lands beyond the sea. Because the city had no wealth to give, Because the caravans were spoiled afar, |