XXV.

Deep among tree roots astray Here a torrent tears its way, There a cedar split aloft Lies head downward. Now the oft Muttering thunder, now the wind Wakens. How the path to find? How the turning? Deep ay deep, Far ay far. She needs must weep, This fair woman, lost, astray In the forest; nought to say. Yet the sick thoughts come and go, 'I, 't was I would have it so.'