our soul."

The afternoon was merging into twilight as I left the house on the road
to Taqui. The great fire, where the Grove had been, was still blazing
fiercely, and the smoke made a cloud over the upper glen, and filled
all the air with a soft violet haze. I knew that I had done well for
my friend, and that he would come to his senses and be grateful. My
mind was at ease on that score, and in something like comfort I faced
the future. But as the car reached the ridge I looked back to the vale
I had outraged. The moon was rising and silvering the smoke, and
through the gaps I could see the tongues of fire. Somehow, I know not
why, the lake, the stream, the garden-coverts, even the green slopes of
hill, wore an air of loneliness and desecration. And then my heartache
returned, and I knew that I had driven something lovely and adorable
from its last refuge on earth.

WOOD MAGIC

(9TH CENTURY.)

I will walk warily in the wise woods on the fringes of eventide,
For the covert is full of noises and the stir of nameless things.
I have seen in the dusk of the beeches the shapes of the lords
that ride,
And down in the marish hollow I have heard the lady who sings.
And once in an April gleaming I met a maid on the sward,
All marble-white and gleaming and tender and wild of eye;--
I, Jehan the hunter, who speak am a grown man, middling hard,
But I dreamt a month of the maid, and wept I knew not why.

Down by the edge of the firs, in a coppice of heath and vine,
Is an old moss-grown altar, shaded by briar and bloom,
Denys, the priest, hath told me 'twas the lord Apollo's shrine
In the days ere Christ came down from God to the Virgin's womb.
I never go past but I doff my cap and avert my eyes--

(Were Denys to catch me I trow I'd do penance for half a year)--
For once I saw a flame there and the smoke of a sacrifice,
And a voice spake out of the thicket that froze my soul with fear.

Wherefore to God the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost,
Mary the Blessed Mother, and the kindly Saints as well,
I will give glory and praise, and them I cherish the most,
For they have the keys of Heaven, and save the soul from Hell.
But likewise I will spare for the Lord Apollo a grace,
And a bow for the lady Venus-as a friend but not as a thrall.
'Tis true they are out of Heaven, but some day they may win the
place;
For gods are kittle cattle, and a wise man honours