The Wisdom Of The King

THE High-Queen of the Island of
Woods had died in child-birth, and her
child was put to nurse, with a woman who
lived in a hut of mud and wicker, within
the border of the wood. One night the
woman sat rocking the cradle, and pondering
over the beauty of the child, and praying
that the gods might grant him wisdom
equal to his beauty. There came a knock
at the door, and she got up, not a little
wondering, for the nearest neighbours were
in the dun of the High-King a mile away;
and the night was now late. 'Who is
knocking?' she cried, and a thin voice
answered, ' Open! for I am a crone of the
grey hawk, and I come from the darkness
of the great wood.' In terror she drew
back the bolt, and a grey-clad woman, of
a great age, and of a height more than
human, came in and stood by the head of
the cradle. The nurse shrank back against
the wall, unable to take her eyes from the
woman, for she saw by the gleaming of the
firelight that the feathers of the grey hawk
were upon her head instead of hair. But
the child slept, and the fire danced, for the
one was too ignorant and the other too full
of gaiety to know what a dreadful being
stood there. ' Open ! ' cried another voice,
~ for I am a crone of the grey hawk, and I
watch over his ncst in the darkness of the
great wood.' The nurse opened the door
again, though her fingers could scarce hold
the bolts for trembling, and another grey
woman, not less old than the other, and
with like feathers instead of hair, came in
and stood by the first. In a little, came a
third grey woman, and after her a fourth,
and then another and another and another,
until the hut was full of their immense
forms. They stood a long time in
perfect silence and stillness, for they were
of those whom the dropping of the sand
has never troubled, but at last one muttered
in a low thin voice: ' Sisters, I knew him
far away by the redness of his heart under
his silver skin'; and then another spoke:
'Sisters, I knew him because his heart
fluttered like a bird under a net of silver
cords'; and then another took up the
word: ' Sisters, I knew him because his
heart sang like a bird that had forgotten
the silver cords.' And after that they Bang
together, those who wcrc nearest rocking
the cradle with long wrinkled fingers; and
their voices were now tender and caressing,
now like the wind blowing in the
great wood, and this was their song:

Out of sight is out of mind:
Long have man and woman-kind
Heavy of will and light of mood,
Taken away our wheaten food,
Taken away our Altar stone;
Hail and rain and thunder alone,
And red hearts we turn to grey,
Are true