Alas! my heart voices only sighs…”)
Handsome, dark faces, prescient with some mystery of the sea, were revealed slowly as the gray light spread. Umbrous eyes, that seemed sleeping, though unclosed, and whose looks were dreams begetting dreams, gazed out to the eastern line. For the sun had not yet risen.
“Ann eoriou zo savet; setu ar flik-ha-flok!
Krenvat ra ann avel; mont a reomp kaer a-rog…”
Then, as the sound of the men’s deep voices died away across the sea, a woman’s voice rose higher, in limpid, silvery tones, yet with words that seemed incongruous in the still gray hour of dawn. For the sun had not yet risen.
“Let the world slide, let the world go;
A fig for care and a fig for woe;
If I can’t pay, why, I can owe,
And death makes equal the high and low—