When the dole was ended, laughingly she said, Master, of a million mouths, is not one unfed?" Laughing, Shiv made answer, "All have had their part, Even he, the little one, hidden 'neath
thy heart." From her breast she plucked it, Parbati the thief, Saw the Least of Little Things gnawed a new-grown leaf!
which thy slumb'ring sould lies hid, That o'er the floor and down the wall, Like ghosts the shadows rise and fall!
Even thus, Eaglelike, pantherlike, Are the poet's desires, Are THINE OWN desires 'neath
a thousand guises, Thou fool!
"Sweet the song, the story sweet, There is no man hearkens it, No man living 'neath
the sun, So outwearied, so foredone, Sick and woful, worn and sad, But is healed, but is glad
2) Speech and the wind-swift speed of counsel and civic wit, He hath learnt for himself all these; and the arrowy rain to fly And the nipping airs that freeze, 'neath
the open winter sky.