Page:Plays in Prose and Verse (1922).djvu/129

Rh. And cry that when they took his ancient right They took all common sleep; therefore he claims The mountain for his mattress and his pillow.

. And there he can sleep on, not noticing, Although the world be changed from worse to worse, Amid the changeless clamour of the curlew.

[They raise the liter on their shoulders and move a few steps. [motioning to them to stop]. Yet make triumphant music; sing aloud For coming times will bless what he has blessed And curse what he has cursed.

. No, no, be still, Or pluck a solemn music from the strings You wrong his greatness speaking so of triumph.

. O silver trumpets, be you lifted up And cry to the great race that is to come. Long-throated swans upon the waves of time, Sing loudly for beyond the wall of the world That race may hear our music and awake.

[motioning the musicians to lower their trumpets]. Not what it leaves behind it in the light But what it carries with it to the dark Rh