BOOK IX. THE CAPTIVE IN LEASHThey were standing on thehill-top, watching the last glimmer of the sinking moon. As the faint perfume of the clover came to them upon the warm evening wind, she sighed, and whispered—
“Too rare, too rare, grow now my visits here! ‘Mid city noise, not as with thee of yore, Thyrsis! in reach of sheep-bells is my home!”
She paused.
“Go on,” he said, and she quoted—
“Then through the great town’s harsh, heart-wearying roar, Let in thy voice a whisper always come, To chase fatigue and fear: Why faintest thou? I wandered till I died. Roam on! The light we sought is shining still.”
Section 1. Thyrsis made his plans and packed his few belongings. There came another pass from the “higher regions”, and he took the night-train once more, and came to the little town
