With that, they stamped,
Gnashed their white teeth, and turning, fled and spat
Upon the floor.  The Elder spake to him,
Yet shaking with the burden, “Who art thou?”
He answered, “I, the man whom thou didst send
To fetch through this thy woodland, do forbear
To tell my name; thou lovest it not, great sire,—­
No, nor mine errand.  To thy house I spake,
Touching their beauty.”  “Wherefore didst thou spite,”
Quoth he, “the daughters?” and it seemed he lost
Count of that prophecy, for very age,
And from his thin lips dropt a trembling laugh. 
“Wicked old man,” quoth he, “this wise old man
I see as ’t were not I. Thou bad old man,
What shall be done to thee? for thou didst burn
Their babes, and strew the ashes all about,
To rid the world of His white soldiers.  Ay,
Scenting of human sacrifice, they fled. 
Cowards!  I heard them winnow their great wings: 
They went to tell Him; but they came no more. 
The women hate to hear of them, so sore
They grudged their little ones; and yet no way
There was but that.  I took it; I did well.”

With that he fell to weeping.  “Son,” said he,
“Long have I hid mine eyes from stalwart men,
For it is hard to lose the majesty
And pride and power of manhood:  but to-day,
Stand forth into the light, that I may look
Upon thy strength, and think, EVEN THUS DID I,
IN THE GLORY OF MY YOUTH, MORE LIKE TO GOD
THAN LIKE HIS SOLDIERS, FACE THE VASSAL WORLD.”

Then Noah stood forward in his majesty,
Shouldering the golden billhook, wherewithal
He wont to cut his way, when tangled in
The matted hayes.  And down the opened roof
Fell slanting beams upon his stately head,
And streamed along his gown, and made to shine
The jewelled sandals on his feet.

And, lo,
The Elder cried aloud:  “I prophesy. 
Behold, my son is as a fruitful field
When all the lands are waste.  The archers drew,—­
They drew the bow against him; they were fain
To slay:  but he shall live,—­my son shall live,
And I shall live by him in the other days. 
Behold the prophet of the Most High God: 
Hear him.  Behold the hope o’ the world, what time
She lieth under.  Hear him; he shall save
A seed alive, and sow the earth with man. 
O, earth! earth! earth! a floating shell of wood
Shall hold the remnant of thy mighty lords
Will this old man be in it?  Sir, and you
My daughters, hear him!  Lo, this white old man
He sitteth on the ground. (Let be, let be: 
Why dost Thou trouble us to make our tongue
Ring with abhorred words?) The prophecy
Of the Elder, and the vision that he saw,
They both are ended.”