Thee, open-handed!
Stalwart shall shield thee,
Thee, worth their best blood,
Waif of the West.
XVI.
“Then shall come singers,
Singing no swan-song,
Bird-carols, rather,
Meet for the man-child
Mighty of bone.”
Thee, open-handed!
Stalwart shall shield thee,
Thee, worth their best blood,
Waif of the West.
XVI.
“Then shall come singers,
Singing no swan-song,
Bird-carols, rather,
Meet for the man-child
Mighty of bone.”