It   go into to turned tos of times coming upon o meet o  o ime in oo spare;  and blossom At all times of the ice, Are dancing in a crowd.

    ttle fox  of tly, t my rein; But ttle red fox murmured, O do not pluck at o to is the worlds bane.

    s are so  to blo all t are killed in battle Ao life again: It is lucky t tory Is not knorong farmers t  ts  somebody had drunk dry.

    Micrumpet From a bougtle noise er itail, and talk Of   roads w up an old ill arry brink.

    o climb tain t  doo rest for a ice of a   brougo mind to bring to Mary Lavelle, and to no er ore off a little branc  and open blossoms, and  on tle fox  of tly, t my rein; But ttle red fox murmured, O do not pluck at o to is the worlds bane.

    And  on climbing t to  told of lovers, good and bad, and of some t self by trengt ao a life in some sing for t and banishe face of God.

    And at last, at to teep Gap of trangers, and to t  spreading from mountain to mountain.

    And it seemed to  t co s began to beat . And  less, began to pluck off ttle brancc floating doo ttle fluttering troop.

    Suddenly  music, a music t er in it and more crying t rose ness beyond t seemed to  ttle soft rose leaves as t fluttering doo to cill troop of men and ,  colour co many colours, and iful young men, and of queen?  going from  coming toretc of t as if to take  could not touc t  t be broken. And before t at a distance as if in reverence, t to be t defeated gods; and t rise to take  can neitance, and to be going toe door t is in tain.

    t spread out before ed sea  , it began to fill again less life t  of itself, and arms and pale ossing  rose ill it eep rock, and to be solid, and a ne passed very sloeps, and in t of eacarlig t t?sead of s, and t keep side by side, but folloer one anot o ty, but as to t s life, and trembling about t lived errible life of its o rose of a sudden and  gust of o, and covered  time e wing of cloud.

    ood up trembling and o turn a beyond t o o me, for no one in to me for seven hundred years.

    tell me w have passed by, said hanrahan.

    t passed first, t est name in times, Blanad and Deirdre and Grania and t many t are not so  are as   only t ty t is as lasting as t and tars, t and tars e of tterness t into t came next,

    s still breat air and s, are not put in songs by ts, because t only to triumpo prove trengty, and out of to to triumpo love but only to be loved, and ts or in til it flo for a moment. All t I am t of all, for I am Dervadilla, and t, and it ions are upon us, and none are punis  ty of t and not ting beauty. ing unbreakable quiet about us, and tterness of ttles urned to our ooget Dermot t  ime in t is t t, and no one ened to me for seven hundred years.

    A great terror ing  loud times, and ttle in ted t tain a of ttered trembling leaves. But a little beloroop of rose leaves still fluttered in teernity  again in one beat of t.