A poet's pastime. Scarlet beans they threaded

Later to lie about some golden throat.

Deftly they wove fine mats, and deftly twisted

8

Men's eyes. With little songs they pearled the air.

Hush! it is Taka singing:—

"Far away

In a fountain dwelt a maiden;

When the silver moon was high

She was glad, but heavy laden

Was she when its light must die.

Far away.

"Far away

Came a stranger brave to love her,

Loved her when the moon was high;

When the moon was pale above her

Love grew pale and like to die

Far away.

"Far away

From the fountain's mist he drew her

 Prev. P 7/48 next