The Third Wise Man
Hush! I say.
Onward and upward till the day—
The Fourth Wise Man
Brother, that tree has crimson leaves.
You'll never see its like again.
Don't miss it. Look, it's bright with rain—
The First Wise Man
O prating tongue. On, on.
The Fourth Wise Man
And there
A toad-stool, nay, a goblin stool.
No toad sat on a thing so fair.
Wait, while I pluck—and there's—and here's
A whole ring...what?...berries?
(The Fourth Wise Man drops behind, botanizing)
The Wisest of the remaining Three Wise Men
O fool!
Fool, fallen in this vale of tears.
His hand had touched the plough: his eyes
Looked back: no more with us, his peers,
He'll climb the hill and front the skies
And see the Star, the King, the Prize.
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