Page:The Wild Swans at Coole.djvu/107

 Rh Sing me the changes of the moon once more; True song, though speech: 'mine author sung it me.'

Twenty-and-eight the phases of the moon, The full and the moon's dark and all the crescents, Twenty-and-eight, and yet but six-and-twenty The cradles that a man must needs be rocked in: For there's no human life at the full or the dark. From the first crescent to the half, the dream But summons to adventure and the man