Page:Poems by Cushag.djvu/44

Rh "No, no," we said, "not so," we said,
 * "Our ways are not together;

We'll take the road and go," we said
 * "Stay you and watch the weather."

My nag was fed by fairy hands,
 * She drank from Chibbyr-Garvel

And in a trice she leapt aloft
 * And left the bones to marvel.

The mist came floating round again
 * With songs and laughter ringing—

And there we were on Bearey slopes
 * Where morning larks were singing.