1: 



o> WOODMYTH & FABLE 



In 



snow-drifts weep, and their tears in a thou- 

 sand rills run down, melting the snow and 

 sawing the ice as they trickle on Chaska- 

 water. 



Open the stretches of water now; 

 Gulls and Terns and Ducks are there, 

 Divers and Butterflies, Midges and Gnats, 

 singing and shouting, even while silent — 

 "Coming, commg, coming!" 



But loudest of all is the calm, clear 

 sky of warmest blue, with a golden sun, 

 a golden ball in the great over-bowl, 



'* Coming, coming, coming ! " It booms 

 in silence, and still looks down, and all is 

 expectant — awaiting . 



"Coming, coming!" And the myriad 

 heralds' cries have melted and softened 

 to a world-wide gentle murmur, almost a 

 hush — the hush in the pageant that fol- 

 lows the heralds' announcement. 



It came at last : not from the south or 



