I"Poor wanderer," said the leaden sky, "I fain would lighten thee, But there be laws in force on high Which say it must not be."II- "I would not freeze thee, shorn one," cried The North, "knew I but how To warm my breath, to slack my stride;But I am ruled as thou."III
- "To-morrow I attack thee, wight,"
Said Sickness. "Yet I swear I bear thy little ark no spite, But am bid enter there."IV- "Come hither, Son," I heard Death say;
"I did not will a grave Should end thy pilgrimage to-day, But I, too, am a slave!"VWe smiled upon each other then, And life to me wore less That fell contour it wore ere when They owned their passiveness.
