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"Spirits of the Wood, I charge ye--who is he that walketh to and

fro in the world, and having eyes, seeth not, and ears, heareth

not--a very Fool of Love?"

Once again the voices cried in answer: "Peter Vibart!--Peter Vibart!"

"Spirits of the Wood, I charge ye--who is he that shall love with

a love reatly for love and

because of it--who shall think of it by day, and dreahts--who is he that must die to find love and the fulness of

life?--O Spirits of the Wood, I charge ye!"

And again froreen came the soft, hushed chorus: "Peter Vibart--Peter Vibart!"

But, even as I laughed, came one froirded on lade, we fought, and strove together,

he smote me, so that

I fell down fro and soaking into the grass And, as I watched, there

caloriously Yet, little by little, this bird changed, and lo! in

its place was a new Peter Vibart standing upon the old; and the

New traone

Then, with his eyes on the stars, the new Peter Vibart fell

a-singing, and the words I sang were these: "For her love I carke, and care,

For her love I droop, and dare,