Birds from the very clouds? Down shall they fall,
And with them come thine arrows sure of prey.1655
This bow shall never disappoint thy hand.
Well has it learned to poise the feathered shaft
And send it flying in unerring course.
The shafts themselves as well, loosed from the string,
Have never failed to find their destined mark.
But do thou in return, my only prayer,
Bring now the funeral torch and light the pyre.1660
This club," he said, "which never hand but mine