Fidgeting with the sea wind in their branches,
Unquiet in the warm air.
She stood between them. She said,
You who have set your candles toward the sea
Two nights already and no sound
Only the water,
Tell me, do the dead come out of the sea?
Does the spring come from the sea?
Does the dead god
Come again from the water?
The willow-trees stirred in the wind,
Stilled,
Stirred in the wind—
She said, It may be that he has come,
It may be he has come and gone and I not knowing—
18
