XLVIII.

Then these two long silence hold, And the lisping babe doth say 'White white bird, it flew away.' And they marvel at these things, For her ghostly visitings Turn to them another face. Haply she was sent, a friend Trying them, and to good end For their better weal and grace; One more wonder let to be In the might and mystery Of the world, where verily And good sooth a man may wend All his life, and no more view Than the one right next to do.