Page:Songs, Legends, and Ballads.djvu/238

226 I rode to his hut just by chance that night, And there on the threshold the clear moonlight Showed the two snakes dead. I pushed in the door With an awful feeling of coming woe: The dead were stretched on the moonlit floor, The man held the hand of his wife,—his pride. His poor life's treasure,—and crouched by her side. God! I sank with the weight of the blow. I touched and called him: he heeded me not, So I dug her grave in a quiet spot, And lifted them both,—her boy on her breast,— And laid them down in the shade to rest. Then I tried to take my poor friend away, But he cried so wofully, "Let me stay Till she comes again!" that I had no heart To try to persuade him then to part From all that was left to him here,—her grave; So I stayed by his side that night, and, save One heart-cutting cry, he uttered no sound,— O God! that wail—like the wail of a hound!