His hundred thousand kernes to yonder steep
And rolled its boulders down, and built a mole
To fence my laden ships from spring-tide surge,
Far kinglier pattern had he shown, and given
More solace to the land."

He rose and turned
With sideway leer; and printing with vague step
Irregular the shining sands, on strode
Toward his cold home, alone; and saw by chance
A little bird light-perched, that, being sick,
Plucked from the fissured sea-cliff grains of sand;
And, noting, said, "O bird, when beak of thine
From base to crown hath gorged this huge sea-wall,
Then shall that man of Creed and Rite make null
The strong rock of my will!" Thus Milcho spake,
Feigning the peace not his.

Next day it chanced
Women he heard in converse. Thus the first:
"If true the news, good speed for him, my boy!
Poor slaves by Milcho scourged on earth shall wear
In heaven a monarch's crown! Good speed for her
His little sister, not reserved like us
To bend beneath these loads." To whom her mate:
"Doubt not the Prophet's tidings! Not in vain
The Power Unknown hath shaped us! Come He must,
Or send, and help His people on their way.
Good is He, or He ne'er had made these babes!"
They passed, and Milcho said, "Through hate of me