XCIX

THROUGH lane it lay, through bramble,

Through clearing and through wood,

Banditti often passed us

Upon the lonely road.

The wolf came purring curious,

The owl looked puzzled down,

The serpent’s satin figure

Glid stealthily along.

The tempest touched our garments,

The lightning’s poignards gleamed,

Fierce from the crag above us

The hungry vulture screamed.

The satyr’s fingers beckoned,

The valley murmured “Come”—

These were the mates—and this the road

Those children fluttered home.