[Illustration: Who plays the Song of Songs upon the Hills of Dream? It
is said Love is that need-player, for There is no song like his.
But today I saw one, on these still garths of shadow and silence, who
put a hollow reed to his lips and played a white spell of beauty. Then
I knew Love and Sorrow to be one, as in the old myth of Oengus of the
White Birds and The Grey Shadows.
(F. M.)]
[Illustration: “The network of words is like a big forest: it is the
cause of curious wanderings.”