_If the blossoms were beans, I should know what it means-- This blaze, which I certainly cannot endure; It is evil, too, For its colour is blue, And the sense of the matter is quite obscure.

Celestial truth _Is the food of youth; But the music was dark as a moonless night.

The facts in the song Were all of them wrong,_

_And there was not a single sum done right; Tho' a metaphysician amongst the crowd, In a voice that was notably deep and loud, Repeated, as fast as he was able, The whole of the multiplication table._

So the cry flapped off as a wild goose flies, And the stars came out in the trembling skies, And ever the mystic glory grew In the garden of blue chrysanthemums, Till there came a rumble of distant drums; And the mult.i.tude suddenly turned and flew.

... A dead ape lay where their feet had been ...

And we called for the yellow palankeen, And the flowers divided and let us through.

The black-barred moon was large and low When we came to the Forest of Ancient Woe; And over our heads the stars were bright.

But through the forest the path we travelled Its phosph.o.r.escent aisle unravelled In one thin ribbon of dwindling light: And twice and thrice on the fainting track We paused to listen. The moon grew black, But the coolies' faces glimmered white, As the wild woods echoed in dreadful chorus A laugh that came horribly hopping o'er us Like monstrous frogs thro' the murky night.

Then the tall thin man as we swung along Sang us an old enchanted song That lightened our hearts of their fearful load.

But, e'en as the moonlit air grew sweet, We heard the pad of stealthy feet d.o.g.g.i.ng us down the thin white road; And the song grew weary again and harsh, And the black trees dripped like the fringe of a marsh, And a laugh crept out like a shadowy toad; And we knew it was neither ghoul nor djinn: _It was Creeping Sin! It was Creeping Sin!_

But we came to a bend, and the white moon glowed Like a gate at the end of the narrowing road Far away; and on either hand, As guards of a path to the heart's desire, The strange tall blossoms of soft blue fire Stretched away thro' that unknown land, League on league with their dwindling lane Down to the large low moon; and again There shimmered around us that mystical strain, In a tongue that it seemed we could understand.

SONG

_Hold by right and rule by fear Till the slowly broadening sphere Melting through the skies above Merge into the sphere of love._

_Hold by might until you find Might is powerless o'er the mind: Hold by Truth until you see, Though they bow before the wind, Its towers can mock at liberty._

_Time, the seneschal, is blind; Time is blind: and what are we?

Captives of Infinity, Claiming through Truth's prison bars Kinship with the wandering stars._

O, who could tell the wild weird sights We saw in all the days and nights We travelled through those forests old.

We saw the griffons on white cliffs, Among fantastic hieroglyphs, Guarding enormous heaps of gold:

We saw the Ghastroi--curious men Who dwell, like tigers, in a den, And howl whene'er the moon is cold; They stripe themselves with red and black And ride upon the yellow Yak.

Their dens are always ankle-deep With twisted knives, and in their sleep They often cut themselves; they say That if you wish to live in peace The surest way is not to cease Collecting knives; and never a day Can pa.s.s, unless they buy a few; And as their enemies buy them too They all avert the impending fray, And starve their children and their wives To buy the necessary knives.

The forest leapt with shadowy shapes As we came to the great black Tower of Apes: But we gave them purple figs and grapes In alabaster amphoras: We gave them curious kinds of fruit With betel nuts and orris-root, And then they let us pa.s.s: And when we reached the Tower of Snakes We gave them soft white honey-cakes, And warm sweet milk in bowls of bra.s.s: And on the hundredth eve we found The City of the Secret Wound.

We saw the mystic blossoms blow Round the City, far below; Faintly in the sunset glow We saw the soft blue glory flow O'er many a golden garden gate: And o'er the tiny dark green seas Of tamarisks and tulip-trees, Domes like golden oranges Dream aloft elate.

And clearer, clearer as we went, We heard from tower and battlement A whisper, like a warning, sent From watchers out of sight; And clearer, brighter, as we drew Close to the walls, we saw the blue Flashing of plumes where peac.o.c.ks flew Thro' zones of pearly light.

On either side, a fat black bonze Guarded the gates of red-wrought bronze, Blazoned with blue sea-dragons And mouths of yawning flame; Down the road of dusty red, Though their brown feet ached and bled, Our coolies went with joyful tread: Like living fans the gates outspread And opened as we came.

PART III

THE MYSTIC RUBY

The white moon dawned; the sunset died; And stars were trembling when we spied The rose-red temple of our dreams: Its lamp-lit gardens glimmered cool With many an onyx-paven pool, Amid soft sounds of flowing streams; Where star-shine shimmered through the white Tall fountain-shafts of crystal light In ever changing rainbow-gleams.

Priests in flowing yellow robes Glided under rosy globes Through the green pomegranate boughs Moonbeams poured their coloured rain; Roofs of sea-green porcelain Jutted o'er the rose-red house; Bells were hung beneath its eaves; Every wind that stirred the leaves Tinkled as tired water does.

The temple had a low broad base Of black bright marble; all its face Was marble bright in rosy bloom; And where two sea-green pillars rose Deep in the flower-soft eave-shadows We saw, thro' richly sparkling gloom, Wrought in marvellous years of old With bulls and peac.o.c.ks bossed in gold, The doors of powdered lacquer loom.

Quietly then the tall thin man, Holding his turquoise-tinted fan, Alighted from the palanquin; We followed: never painter dreamed Of how that dark rich temple gleamed With gules of jewelled gloom within; And as we wondered near the door A priest came o'er the polished floor In sandals of soft serpent-skin; His mitre shimmered bright and blue With pigeon's breast-plumes. When he knew Our quest he stroked his broad white chin, And looked at us with slanting eyes And smiled; then through his deep disguise _We knew him! It was Creeping Sin!_

But cunningly he bowed his head Down on his gilded breast and said _Come_: and he led us through the dusk Of pa.s.sages whose painted walls Gleamed with dark old festivals; Till where the gloom grew sweet with musk And incense, through a door of amber We came into a high-arched chamber.

There on a throne of jasper sat A monstrous idol, black and fat; Thick rose-oil dropped upon its head: Drop by drop, heavy and sweet, Trickled down to its ebon feet Whereon the blood of goats was shed, And smeared around its perfumed knees In savage midnight mysteries.

It wore about its bulging waist A belt of dark green bronze enchased With big, soft, cloudy pearls; its wrists Were clasped about with moony gems Gathered from dead kings' diadems; Its throat was ringed with amethysts, And in its awful hand it held A softly smouldering emerald.

Silkily murmured Creeping Sin, "This is the stone you wished to win!"

"White Snake," replied the tall thin man, "Show us the Ruby Stone, or I Will slay thee with my hands." The sly Long eyelids of the priest began To slant aside; and then once more He led us through the fragrant door.

And now along the pa.s.sage walls Were painted hideous animals, With hooded eyes and cloven stings: In the incense that like shadowy hair Streamed over them they seemed to stir Their craggy claws and crooked wings.

At last we saw strange moon-wreaths curl Around a deep, soft porch of pearl.

O, what enchanter wove in dreams That chapel wild with shadowy gleams And prismy colours of the moon?

Shrined like a rainbow in a mist Of flowers, the fretted amethyst Arches rose to a mystic tune; And never mortal art inlaid Those cloudy floors of sea-soft jade.

There, in the midst, an idol rose White as the silent starlit snows On lonely Himalayan heights: Over its head the spikenard spilled Down to its feet, with myrrh distilled In distant, odorous Indian nights: It held before its ivory face A flaming yellow chrysoprase.

O, silkily murmured Creeping Sin, "This is the stone you wished to win."

But in his ear the tall thin man _Whispered with slow, strange lips_--we knew Not what, but Creeping Sin went blue With fear; again his eyes began To slant aside; then through the porch He pa.s.sed, and lit a tall, brown torch.

Down a corridor dark as death, With beating hearts and bated breath We hurried; far away we heard A dreadful hissing, fierce as fire When rain begins to quench a pyre; And where the smoky torch-light flared Strange vermin beat their bat-like wings, And the wet walls dropped with slimy things.

And darker, darker, wound the way, Beyond all gleams of night and day, And still that hideous hissing grew Louder and louder on our ears, And tortured us with eyeless fears; Then suddenly the gloom turned blue, And, in the wall, a rough rock cave Gaped, like a phosph.o.r.escent grave.

And from the purple mist within There came a wild tumultuous din Of snakes that reared their heads and hissed As if a witch's cauldron boiled; All round the door great serpents coiled, With eyes of glowing amethyst, Whose fierce blue flames began to slide Like shooting stars from side to side.

Ah! with a sickly gasping grin And quivering eyelids, Creeping Sin Stole to the cave; but, suddenly, As through its glimmering mouth he pa.s.sed, The serpents flashed and gripped him fast: He wriggled and gave one awful cry, Then all at once the cave was cleared; The snakes with their victim had disappeared.

And fearlessly the tall thin man Opened his turquoise-tinted fan And entered; and the mists grew bright, And we saw that the cave was a diamond hall Lit with lamps for a festival.

A myriad globes of coloured light Went gliding deep in its ma.s.sy sides, Like the shimmering moons in the gla.s.sy tides Where a sea-king's palace enchants the night.

Gliding and flowing, a glory and wonder, Through each other, and over, and under, The lucent orbs of green and gold, Bright with sorrow or soft with sleep, In music through the glimmering deep, Over their secret axles rolled, And circled by the murmuring spheres We saw in a frame of frozen tears A mirror that made the blood run cold.

For, when we came to it, we found It imaged everything around Except the face that gazed in it; And where the mirrored face should be A heart-shaped Ruby fierily Smouldered; and round the frame was writ, _Mystery: Time and Tide shall pa.s.s, I am the Wisdom Looking-Gla.s.s._

_This is the Ruby none can touch: Many have loved it overmuch; Its fathomless fires flutter and sigh, Being as images of the flame That shall make earth and heaven the same When the fire of the end reddens the sky, And the world consumes like a burning pall, Till where there is nothing, there is all._

So we looked up at the tall thin man And we saw that his face grew sad and wan: Tears were glistening in his eyes: At last, with a breaking sob, he bent His head upon his breast and went Swiftly away! With dreadful cries We rushed to the softly glimmering door And stared at the hideous corridor.

But his robe was gone as a dream that flies: Back to the gla.s.s in terror we came, And stared at the writing round the frame.

We could not understand one word: And suddenly we thought we heard The hissing of the snakes again: How could we front them all alone?

O, madly we clutched at the mirrored stone And wished we were back on the flowery plain: And swifter than thought and swift as fear The whole world flashed, and behold we were there.