Iv

Said the Watcher by the Way To 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 morning We 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 calling When to-morrow is to-day.”

“But your lanterns are unlighted And 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 known That 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.