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Haggard, H. Rider (Henry Rider), 1856-1925

"Nada the Lily"

Only I marvelled
that the voice of nature should speak so truly in her, telling her
that which was lawful, even when it seemed to be most unlawful.
"Speak no more of Umslopogaas," I said, "for surely he is dead, and
though you cannot forget him, yet speak of him no more, and I pray of
you, my daughter, that if we do not meet again, yet you should keep me
in your memory, and the love I bear you, and the words which from time
to time I have said to you. The world is a thorny wilderness, my
daughter, and its thorns are watered with a rain of blood, and we
wander in our wretchedness like lost travellers in a mist; nor do I
know why our feet are set on this wandering. But at last there comes
an end, and we die and go hence, none know where, but perhaps where we
go the evil may change to the good, and those who were dear to each
other on the earth may become yet dearer in the heavens; for I believe
that man is not born to perish altogether, but is rather gathered
again to the Umkulunkulu who sent him on his journeyings. Therefore
keep hope, my daughter, for if these things are not so, at least sleep
remains, and sleep is soft, and so farewell."
Then we kissed and parted, and I watched Macropha, my wife, and Nada,
my daughter, till they melted into the sky, as they walked upon their
journey to Swaziland, and was very sad, because, having lost
Umslopogaas, he who in after days was named the Slaughterer and the
Woodpecker, I must lose them also.


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