Page:The wind among the reeds.pdf/29



heart, in a time out-worn, Come clear of the nets of wrong and right; Laugh heart again in the gray twilight, Sigh, heart, again in the dew of the morn.

Your mother is always young, Dew ever shining and twilight gray; Though hope fall form you and love decay, Burning in fires of a slanderous tongue.

Come, heart, where hill is heaped upon hill: For there the mystical brotherhood Of sun and moon and hollow and wood And river and stream work out their will; Errata