XXIX.
Old Morgan turn'd and raised his hand,
And laid it level with his eyes,
And look'd far back along the land.
He saw a dark dust still uprise,
Still surely tend to where he lay.
He did not curse, he did not say,
He did not even look surprise,
But silent turned to her his eyes.
Nay, he was over-gentle now,
He wiped a time his Titan brow,
Then sought dark Ina in her place,
Put out his arms, put down his face
And look'd in hers.
She reach'd her hands,
She lean'd, she fell upon his breast;
He reach'd his arms around; she lay
As lies a bird in leafy nest.
And he look'd out across the sands,
And then his face fell down, he smiled,
And softly said, "My child, my child!"
Then bent his head and strode away.
And as he strode he turn'd his head,
He sidewise cast his brief commands;
He led right on across the sands.
They rose and follow'd where he led.