him
with a complete traveller's guide, but his instructions were not
regarded.

"You can commence your journey immediately," said Sophia, "Ginnistan
can guide you. She knows the road and is acquainted everywhere. She
will take the form of your mother, that she may not lead you into
temptation. If you find the king, think of me; for then I shall soon
come to assist you."

Ginnistan exchanged forms with the mother, whereat the father seemed
much pleased. The scribe was rejoiced that they were both going away;
particularly when Ginnistan on taking leave presented him with a
pocket-book, in which the chronicles of the house were circumstantially
recorded. Yet the little Fable remained a thorn in his eye, and he
desired nothing more for his peace and content, than that she might
also be among the number of the travellers. Sophia pronounced a
blessing upon the two who knelt down before her, and gave them a vessel
full of water from the bowl. The mother was very sad. Little Fable,
would willingly have gone with them; the father was too much occupied
out of doors, to concern himself much about it. It was night when they
left, and the moon stood high in the sky.

"Dear Eros," said Ginnistan, "we must hasten, that we may come to my
father, who has not seen me for a long time, and has fought for me
anxiously everywhere upon earth. Do you not see his emaciated face?
Your testimony will cause him to recognise me in this strange form."

Love hies along in dusky ways,
The moon his only light;
The shadow-realm itself displays,
And all uncouthly dight.

An azure mist with golden rim
Around him floats in play,
And quickly Fancy hurries him
O'er stream and land away.

His teeming bosom beating is
In wondrous spirit-flow;
A presagement of future bliss
Bespeaks the ardent glow.

And Longing sat and wept aloud,
Nor knew that Love was near;
And deeper in her visage ploughed
The hopeless sorrow's tear.

The little snake remaineth true,
It pointeth to the North,
And both in trust and courage new
Their leader follow forth.

Love hieth through the hot Simoon,
And through the vapor-land,
Enters the halo of the moon,
The daughter in his hand.