I can see through your disguise!
I my goddess recognize—
Hebe, young immortally,
Sweet nepenthe pouring me!"
Stent laughed outright:
"How funny to think of it now—and to think of Rosa!... And you, Siurd, do you forget that you also composed a most wonderful war-poem—to the metre of 'Fly, Eagle, Fly!' Do you remember how it began?
"Slay, Eagle, Slay!
They die who dare decry us!
Red dawns 'The Day.'
The western cliffs defy us!