all gone out, no sound is in thy streets. Hush! Thou art like a
maiden that shutteth up her eyes and is asleep, that draweth her
breath softly and is quite still, being at ease and untroubled.

'Behold now the battlements, the old battlements. Do men defend
them still as we defended them? They are worn a little, the
battlements,' and drifting nearer they peered anxiously. 'It is not
by the hand of man that they are worn, our battlements. Only the
years have done it and indomitable Time. Thy battlements are like
the girdle of a maiden, a girdle that is round about her. See now
the dew upon them, they are like a jewelled girdle.

'Thou art in great danger, Merimna, because thou art so beautiful.
Must thou perish tonight because we no more defend thee, because we
cry out and none hear us, as the bruised lilies cry out and none
have known their voices?'

Thus spake those strong-voiced, battle-ordering captains, calling to
their dear city, and their voices came no louder than the whispers
of little bats that drift across the twilight in the evening. Then
the purple guard came near, going round the ramparts for the first
time in the night, and the old warriors called to them, 'Merimna is
in danger! Already her enemies gather in the darkness.' But their
voices were never heard because they were only wandering ghosts.
And the guard went by and passed unheeding away, still singing of
Welleran.

Then said Welleran to his comrades: 'Our hands can hold swords no
more, our voices cannot be heard, we are stalwart men no longer. We
are but dreams, let us go among dreams. Go all of you, and thou too,