Page:Plays in Prose and Verse (1922).djvu/146

130 And though your father came out of the sun, Are but a little king and weigh but light In anything that touches government, If put into the balance with my children.

. It’s well that we should speak our minds out plainly, For when we die we shall be spoken of In many countries. We in our young days Have seen the heavens like a burning cloud Brooding upon the world, and being more Than men can be now that cloud’s lifted up, Weshould be the more truthful. Conchubar, I do not like your children—they have no pith, No marrow in their bones, and will lie soft Where you and I lie hard.

. You rail at them Because you have no children of your own.

. I think myself most lucky that I leave No pallid ghost or mockery of a man To drift and mutter in the corridors, Where I have laughed and sung.

. That is not true, For all your boasting of the truth between us; For there is no man having house and lands, That have been in the one family And called by the one name for centuries, But is made miserable if he know They are to pass into a stranger’s keeping, As yours will pass.