“Your hour is not quite come. You must have food ere you sleep.”
“Ah, I ought not to have lain down without your leave, for I cannot sleep without your help! I will get up at once!”
But I found my own weight more than I could move.
“There is no need: we will serve you here,” he answered. “—You do not feel cold, do you?”
“Not too cold to lie still, but perhaps too cold to eat!”
He came to the side of my couch, bent over me, and breathed on my heart. At once I was warm.
As he left me, I heard a voice, and knew it was the Mother’s. She was singing, and her song was sweet and soft and low, and I thought she sat by my bed in the dark; but ere it ceased, her song soared aloft, and seemed to come from the throat of a woman-angel, high above all the region of larks, higher than man had ever yet lifted up his heart. I heard every word she sang, but could keep only this:—
“Many a wrong, and its curing song;
Many a road, and many an inn;
Room to roam, but only one home
For all the world to win!”
and I thought I had heard the song before.
Then the three came to my couch together, bringing me bread and wine, and I sat up to partake of it. Adam stood on one side of me, Eve and Mara on the other.