done I have no errand with dragons."

Ranulph nodded, thoughtfully. "The King would be glad of more such
service," he said. "Good fortune be with you!"



BELLEROPHON

Hail, Poet--and farewell! Our day is past,
Yet may we hear new songs before we die,
The chanteys of the mightiest and the last,--
The squadrons of the sky.

We knew the rhythm of myriad marching feet,
Gray tossing seas that rocked the wind-whipped sail,
The drumming hoofs of horses, and the beat
Of stern hearts clad in mail.

But you--earth-fettered we shall watch your wings
Topping the mountains, battling winds,--to dare
Challenge the lammergeyer where she swings
Down the long lanes of air.

And when you take the skylark for your guide,
And soar straight up to sun-drenched shores of Time,
Immortal singers there shall, eager-eyed,
Await your new-born rhyme.

Their songs are charm-songs, a divine caress,