XI 

 THE SEVEN SLEEPERS 



A THOUSAND and a thousand years ago, seven 

 saints hid from heathen persecutors among the cold 

 mountains which circle Ephesus. The multitude who 

 cried, "Great is Diana of the Ephesians!" are irift- 

 ing dust, and the vast city itself but a mass of half- 

 buried ruins. Yet somewhere in a lonely cave sleep 

 those seven holy men, un vexed by sorrow, untouched 

 by time, until Christ comes again. So runs the legend. 



It is a far cry to Ephesus, and whether the Seven 

 still sleep there, who may say? Yet here and now 

 seven other Sleepers live with us, who slumber 

 through our winters, with hunger and cold and 

 danger but a dream. Then* names I once rhymed 

 for some children of my acquaintance. As I am 

 credibly advised that the progress of a camel through 

 the eye of a needle is an easy process compared to 

 having a poem printed by the Atlantic Press, I 

 hasten to include in this chapter the following 

 exquisite bit of free verse (I call it free because I 

 don't get anything extra for it). 



The Bat and the Bear, they never care 



What winter winds may blow; 

 The Jumping-Mouse in his cozy house 



Is safe from ice and snow. 



