S you! Good by." And I sailed for Gallipoli. FOOTNOTES

Litalien Fabus irritably at scouting-pvg.nl
Mon Aug 31 20:18:49 PDT 2009

Wing. But alas! my bird, for me!" In the porch with roses burning All
across, she sitteth lonely. O, her soul is dark with dread! Round and
round her slow wheel turning, Lady brow down-dropped serenely, Lady hand
uplifted queenly, Pausing in the spinning only To rejoin the broken
thread,-- Pausing only for the winding, With the carded silken binding
Of the flax, the distaff-head. All along the branches creeping, To their
leafy beds of sleeping Go the blue-birds and the brown; Blackbird
stoppeth now his clamor, And the little yellowhammer Droppeth head in
winglet down. Now the rocks rise bleak and barren Through the twilight,
gray and still; In the marsh-land now the heron Clappeth close his horny
bill. Death-watch now begins his drumming And the fire-fly, going,
coming, Weaveth zigzag lines of light,-- Lines of zigzag,
golden-threaded, Up the marshy valley, shaded O'er and o'er with vapors
white. Now the lily, open-hearted, Of her dragon-fly deserted, Swinging
on the wind so low, Gives herself, with trust audacious, To the wild
warm wave that washes Through her fingers, soft and slow. O the eyes of
Mona's mother! Dim they grow with tears unshed; For
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