folk on the earth These things have I told: for a true man I deem thee Beyond all men call true; yea, a wise man moreover And hardy and helpful; and I know thy heart surely That thou holdest the world nought without me thy fosterling. Come, leave all awhile! it may be as time weareth With new life in our hands we shall wend us back hither.

Yea; triumph turns trouble, and all the world changeth, Yet a good world it is since we twain are together.

Lo, have I not said it?—thou art kinder than all men. Cast about then, I pray thee, to find us a keel Sailing who recketh whither, since the world is so wide. Sure the northlands shall know of the blessings she bringeth, And the southlands be singing of the tales that foretold her.

Well I wot of all chapmen—and to-night weighs a dromond Sailing west away first, and then to the southlands. Since in such things I deal oft they know me, but know not King Pharamond the Freed, since now first they sail hither. So make me thy messenger in a fair-writ broad letter And thyself make my scrivener, and this very night sail we.—     O surely thy face now is brightening and blesseth me! Peer through these boughs toward the bay and the haven, And high masts thou shalt see, and white sails hanging ready.

Dost thou weep now, my darling, and are thy feet wandering On the ways ever empty of what thou desirest? Nay, nay, for thou know'st me, and many a night-tide Hath Love led thee forth to a city unknown:      Thou hast paced through this palace from chamber to chamber Till in dawn and stars' paling I have passed forth before thee:     Thou hast seen thine own dwelling nor known how to name it:     Thine own dwelling that shall be when love is victorious. Thou hast seen my sword glimmer amidst of the moonlight, As we rode with hoofs muffled through waylaying murder. Through the field of the dead hast thou fared to behold me, Seen me waking and longing by the watch-fires' flicker; Thou hast followed my banner amidst of the battle And seen my face change to the man that they fear, Yet found me not fearful nor turned from beholding:     Thou hast been at my triumphs, and heard the tale's ending Of my wars, and my winning through days evil and weary:     For this eve hast thou waited, and wilt be peradventure By the sea-strand to-night, for thou wottest full surely That the word is gone forth, and the world is a-moving.     —Abide me, beloved! to-day and to-morrow Shall be little words in the tale 

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