“Yes and multiply our sorrows!”
“I suspect thou’lt change thy late creed very soon.”
“Why so?”
“I expect ere long that we’ll meet some living blossoms.”
“By my token, that’s good news, Ichabod.”
“So, then, thou art ready to recant?”
Evening came, and the pilgrims supped on the meager meat they were able to procure in the fields.
“Now poet of the Palm Land mellow my dreams by possessing me of thy meditations. What fixes thy gaze?”
“The monarch of the sky; after a day such as this has been, he seems to me to take his departure with a peculiar sort of triumphal sweep of his trailing splendors.”