me.

    Nay, but tter the Soul.

    Love is better, anso

    t he marshes.

    And after to the shore

    of to t of

    t to me?

    And t I may speak hee,

    for I hings.

    So er, and leaned his

    ened.

    And to y t I knohere is an inn

    t standet th sailors who drank of

    t-coloured e bread made of barley, and

    little salt fis

    and made merry, tered to us an old man bearing a leathern

    carpet and a lute t wo horns of amber.  And when he had

    laid out t on truck he

    rings of e, and a girl whose face was veiled ran in

    and began to dance before us.  h a veil of

    gauze, but  hey

    moved over t like little we pigeons.  Never have I seen

    anyty in w a

    days journey from this place.

    Now whe words of his Soul, he

    remembered t ttle Mermaid  and could not dance.

    And a great desire came over o  is

    but a days journey, and I can return to my love, and he laughed,

    and stood up in ter, and strode tohe shore.

    And whe dry shore he laughed again, and held

    out o  cry of joy and

    ran to meet ered into he young Fisherman saw

    stretc s is

    the Soul.

    And o  us not tarry, but get  once,

    for ters t do their

    bidding.

    So te, and all t nighe

    moon, and all t day the sun, and on

    to a city.

    And to y in

    o me?

    And  is not ty, but another.

    Nevert us enter in.  So