Page:Choëphoroe (Murray 1923).djvu/46

Rh

The milk ran into blood. So deep it bit.

The dream is come. The man shall follow it.

And she, appalled, came shrieking out of sleep;

And many a torch, long blinded in the deep

Of darkness, in our chambers burst afire

To cheer the Queen. Then spake she her desire,

To send, as a swift medicine for the dread

That held her, these peace offerings to the dead.

Behold, I pray this everlasting Earth,

I pray my father's grave, they bring to birth

In fullness all this dream. And here am I

To read its heart and message flawlessly.

Seeing that this serpent, born whence I was born,

Wore the same swathing-bands these limbs had worn,

Fanged the same breast that suckled me of yore,

And through the sweet milk drew that gout of gore;

And seeing she understood, and sore afeared

Shrieked: therefore it must be that, having reared

A birth most ghastly, she in wrath shall die:

And I, the beast, the serpent, even I

Shall slay her! Be it so. The dream speaks clear.

I take thyself for mine interpreter.

And pray that this may be. But speak thy will

Who shall be doing, say, and who be still?