"Think you our hilarity will tremble at the fear of them,

We who laugh in thunder and lighten in our glee?"

Then will I fly to you, dance with you, play with you,

Hover on your breast where the shadow cannot be.

"Hurry, brother, hurry, for we may not delay with you,

Off on a holiday, merrymakers we."


E. P. CHASE

SEVEN MISTS