Mine was the woman to me, darkling I found her;
Haling her dumb from the camp, took her and bound her
Hot rose her tribe on our track ere I had proved her;
Hearing her laugh in the gloom, greatly I loved her

Swift through the forest we ran; none stood to guard us
Few were my people and far; then the flood barred us --
Him we call Son of the Sea, sullen and swollen
Panting we waited the death, stеaler and stolen

Yet еre they came to my lance laid for the slaughter
Lightly she leaped to a log lapped in the water;
Holding on high and apart skins that arrayed her
Called she the God of the Wind that He should aid her

Life had the tree at that word (Praise we the Giver!)
Otter-like left he the bank for the full river
Far fell their axes behind, flashing and ringing
Wonder was on me and fear -- yet she was singing!

Low lay the land we had left. Now the blue bound us
Even the Floor of the Gods level around us
Whisper there was not, nor word, shadow nor showing
Till the light stirred on the deep, glowing and growing

Then did He leap to His place flaring from under
He the Compeller, the Sun, bared to our wonder
Nay, not a league from our eyes blinded with gazing
Cleared He the gate of the world, huge and amazing!
This we beheld (and we live) -- the Pit of the Burning!
Then the God spoke to the tree for our returning;
Back to the beach of our flight, fearless and slowly
Back to our slayers went he: but we were holy

Men that were hot in that hunt, women that followed
Babes that were promised our bones, trembled and wallowed:
Over the necks of the Tribe crouching and fawning --
Prophet and priestess we came back from the dawning!