IV
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aid the Watcher by the WayTo some aged ones who lingered,To the shrunken, the claw-fingered,“So you come for me to-day.”--“Yes, to give you warning;You are old,” one said;“You have old hairs on your head,Fit for laurel, not for scorning. “From the first of early morningWe have toiled along to find you;We, as others, have maligned you,But we need your scorn to-day.By the light that we saw shining,Let us not be lured alway;Let us hear no River callingWhen to-morrow is to-day.” “But your lanterns are unlightedAnd the Town is far before you:Let us hasten, I implore you,”Said the Watcher by the Way.“Long have I waited,Longer have I knownThat the Town would have its own,And the call be for the fated. “In the name of all created,Let us hear no more, my brothers;Are we older than all others?Are the planets in our way?”--“Hark,” said one; “I hear the River,Calling always, night and day.”--“Forward, then! The lights are shining,”Said the Watcher by the Way.
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