She dropped the bar, she shot the bolt, she fed the fire anew br For she heard a whimper under the sill and a great grey paw came through. br The fresh flame comforted the hut and shone on the roof-beam, br And the Only Son lay down again and dreamed that he dreamed a dream. br The last ash fell from the withered log with the click of a falling spark, br And the Only Son woke up again, and called across the dark:-- br "Now was I born of womankind and laid in a mother's breast? br For I have dreamed of a shaggy hide whereon I went to rest. br And was I born of womankind and laid on a father's arm? br For I have dreamed of clashing teeth that guarded me from harm. br br And was I born an Only Son and did I play alone? br For I have dreamed of comrades twain that bit me to the bone. br And did I break the barley-cake and steep it in the tyre? br For I have dreamed of a youngling kid new-riven from the byre: br For I have dreamed of a midnight sky and a midnight call to blood br And red-mouthed shadows racing by, that thrust me from my food. br 'Tis an hour yet and an hour yet to the rising of the moon, br But I can see the black roof-tree as plain as it were noon. br 'Tis a league and a league to the Lena Falls where the trooping blackbuck go; br But I can hear the little fawn that bleats behind the doe. br br br 'Tis a league and a league to the Lena Falls where the crop and the upland meet, br But I Can smell the wet dawn-wind that wakes the sprouting wheat. br Unbar the door. I may not bide, but I must out and see br If those are wolves that wait outside or my own kin to me!" br . . . . .