The Father. What say you?

The Mother. Father Lamion !

The voice of him who fed Luxander's youth.
The sanctuary where he brought his small
Boy griefs for comfort, is at hand. O Father,

God,
Close the wide eyes of night that stare upon
My boy and lead him back to where thy light
Burns ever steadfast in the church 1

Nyassa. He said

That on the morrow when the meagre dawn
Looks through the latticed windows of the trees
Upon the hills, he would beside the altar
Await Luxander and yourselves.
The Mother. Nyassa,

Luxander must be found ere dawn, and you
With recollections of your love must lure
Him to the church.
Nyassa. Alas, alas, dear lady,

I can no longer lure. But I shall pray.
And if the white Lord Jesus Christ who died



12 THE MARSH

For us, poor lovers in a loveless world,
Will hear me, I will bring him to the church.
The Mother. Nay, be not proud, my girl, but cling
on him
With kisses and the winding arms of love ;
And speak of old forgotten joyous times
When love was as a pretty boy with whom
You ran a-dancing and a-singing over
The hills; and hope a falcon that would kill
Whatever hawk flew 'twixt you and the sun.
Nyassa. It is not pride, dear lady: we who love
Have no place in our hearts for austere pride.
And for the past, the heavy snows are fallen :
Let us not dig beneath lest we should see
The piteous body, frozen, stark and dead.
