Page:Plays in Prose and Verse (1922).djvu/150

134 I never have known love but as a kiss In the mid-battle, and a difficult truce Of oil and water, candles and dark night, Hillside and hollow, the hot-footed sun, And the cold, sliding, slippery-footed moon— A brief forgiveness between opposites That have been hatreds for three times the age Of this long-’stablished ground.

. Listen to me. Aoife makes war on us, and every day Our enemies grow greater and beat the walls More bitterly, and you within the walls Are every day more turbulent; and yet, When I would speak about these things, your fancy Runs as it were a swallow on the wind. [Outside the door in the blue light of the sea mist are many old and young ; amongst them are three, two of whom carry a bowl of fire. The third, in what follows, puts from time to time fragrant herbs into the fire so that it flickers up into brighter flame. Look at the door and what men gather there— Old counsellors that steer the land with me, And younger kings, the dancers and harp-players That follow in your tumults, and all these