I think I knew someone of that name once. Who was it, I wonder? It must have been someone I knew when I was a boy. No, no; I remember, I heard it in a song.
OLD WOMAN.
[Who is standing in the doorway.]
They are wondering that there were songs made for me; there have been many songs made for me. I heard one on the wind this morning.
[Sings.] Do not make a great keening
When the graves have been dug to-morrow.
Do not call the white-scarfed riders
To the burying that shall be to-morrow.
Do not spread food to call strangers
To the wakes that shall be to-morrow;
Do not give money for prayers