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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/24679-0.txt b/24679-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..c5af1c7 --- /dev/null +++ b/24679-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,3585 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Lilith, by Ada Langworthy Collier + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Lilith + The Legend of the First Woman + +Author: Ada Langworthy Collier + +Release Date: February 23, 2008 [EBook #24679] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LILITH *** + + + + +Produced by Irma Spehar, Markus Brenner and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This +file was produced from images generously made available +by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.) + + + + + + + LILITH + + + THE LEGEND OF THE FIRST WOMAN + + + BY + ADA LANGWORTHY COLLIER + + + BOSTON + D. LOTHROP AND COMPANY + FRANKLIN AND HAWLEY STREETS + + + + + COPYRIGHT, 1885. + D. LOTHROP & COMPANY. + + + + + PREFACE. + + + That Eve was Adam’s second wife was a common Rabbinic + speculation. Certain commentators on Genesis adopted this view, + to account for the double account of the creation of woman, in + the sacred text, first in Genesis i. 27, and second in Genesis + xi. 18. And they say that Adam’s first wife was named Lilith, + but she was expelled from Eden, and after her expulsion Eve was + created. Abraham Ecchelensis gives the following account of + Lilith and her doings: “There are some who do not regard + spectres as simple devils, but suppose them to be of a mixed + nature—part demoniacal, part human, and to have had their + origin from Lilith, Adam’s first wife, by Eblis, prince of the + devils. This fable has been transmitted to the Arabs, from + Jewish sources, by some converts of Mohamet from Cabbalism and + Rabbinism, who have transferred all the Jewish fooleries to the + Arabs. They gave to Adam a wife formed of clay, along with Adam, + and called her Lilith, resting on the Scripture: ‘Male and + female created He them.’”—_Legends of the Patriarchs and + Prophets.—Baring Gould._ + + Lilith or Lilis.—In the popular belief of the Hebrews, a female + spectre in the shape of a finely dressed woman, who lies in wait + for, and kills children. The old Rabbins turned Lilith into a + wife of Adam, on whom he begat demons and who still has power to + lie with men and kill children who are not protected by amulets + with which the Jews of a yet later period supply themselves as a + protection against her. Burton in his _Anatomy of Melancholy_ + tells us: “The Talmudists say that Adam had a wife called Lilis, + before he married Eve, and of her he begat nothing but devils.” + A commentator on Skinner, quoted in the _Encyclopædia + Metropolitana_, says that the English word _Lullaby_ is derived + from Lilla, abi (begone, Lilith)! In the demonology of the + Middle Ages, Lilis was a famous witch, and is introduced as such + in the Walpurgis night scene in Goethe’s “Faust.”—_Webster’s + Dictionary._ + + Our word _Lullaby_ is derived from two Arabic words which mean + “Beware of Lilith!”—_Anon._ + + Lilith, the supposed wife of Adam, after she married Eblis, is + said to have ruled over the city of Damascus.—_Legends of the + Patriarchs and Prophets.—Baring Gould._ + +From these few and meagre details of a fabled existence, which are all +that the author has been able to collect from any source whatever, has +sprung the following poem. The poet feels quite justified in dissenting +from the statements made in the preceding extracts, and has not drawn +Lilith as there represented—the bloodthirsty sovereign who ruled +Damascus, the betrayer of men, the murderer of children. The Lilith of +the poem is transferred to the more beautiful shadow-world. To that +country which is the abode of poets themselves. And about her is wrapt +the humanizing element still, and everywhere embodied in the sweetest +word the human tongue can utter—_lullaby_. Some critics declare that +true literary art inculcates a lofty lesson—has a high moral purpose. +If poets and their work must fall under this rigorous rule, then alas +“Lilith” will knock at the door of public opinion with a trembling hand +indeed. If the poem have either moral aim or lesson of any kind (which +observe, gentle critic, it is by no means asserted that it has), it is +simply to show that the strongest intellectual powers contain no +elements adverse to the highest and purest exercise of the affectional +nature. That, in its true condition, the noblest, the most cultured +intellect, and the loveliest, sublimest moral and emotional qualities, +together weave the web that clothes the world’s great soul with +imperishable beauty. The possessor of highest intellectual capacity will +be also capable of highest developments in the latter qualities. The +woman of true intellect is the woman of truest affection. For the rest +let Lilith speak, whose life dropped unrecorded from the earliest world. +It is the poet’s hope that the chords of the mother-heart universal will +respond to the song of the childless one. That in the survival of that +one word _lullaby_, may be revivified the pathetic figure of one whose +home, whose hope, whose Eden passed to another. Whose name living in the +terrors of superstitious peoples, now lingers in Earth’s sweetest +utterance. That Pagan Lilith, re-baptized in the pure waters of maternal +love, shall breathe to heathen and Christian motherhood alike, that most +sacred love of Earth still throbbing through its tender lullaby. + + A. L. C. + + + + + TO VALERIA. + + + Broideries and ancient stuffs that some queen + Wore; nor gems that warriors’ hilts encrusted; + Nor fresh from heroes’ brows the laurels green; + Nor bright sheaves by bards of eld entrusted + To earth’s great granaries—I bring not these. + Only thin, scattered blades from harvests gleaned + Erewhile I plucked, may happen thee to please. + So poor indeed, those others had demeaned + Themselves to cull; or from their strong, firm hands + Down dropped about their feet with careless laugh, + Too broken for home gathering, these strands, + Or else more useless than the idle chaff. + But I have garnered them. Yet, lest they seem + Unworthy, and so shame Love’s offering, + Amid the loose-bound sheaf stray flowers gleam. + And fairer seeming make the gift I bring, + Lilies blood-red, that lit the waving field, + And now are knotted through the golden grain. + Thou wilt not scorn the tribute I now yield, + Nor even deem the foolish flowers vain. + So take it, and if still too slight, too small + It seem, think ’tis a bloom that grew anear, + In other Springtime, the old garden wall. + (That pale blue flower you will remember, dear. + The heedless world, unseeing, passed it by, + And left it to the bee and you.) Then say, + “Because the hands that tended it are nigh + No more, and little feet are gone away + That round it trampled down the beaded grass, + Sweeter to me it is than musky spray + Of Southland; and dearer than days that pass + In other summer-tides.” This simple song + Read so, dear heart; Nay, rather white-souled one, + Think ’tis an olden echo, wandered long + From a low bed where ’neath the westering sun + You sang. And if your lone heart ever said + “Lo, she is gone, and cannot more be mine,” + Say now, “She is not changed—she is not wed,— + She never left her cradle bed. Still shine + The pillows with the print of her wee head.” + So, mother-heart, this song, where through still rings + The strain you sang above my baby bed, + I bring. An idle gift mayhap, that clings + About old days forgotten long, and dead. + This loitering tale, Valeria, take. + Perchance ’tis sad, and hath not any mirth, + Yet love thou it, for the weak singer’s sake, + And hold it dear, though yet is little worth, + This tale of Elder-world: of earth’s first prime, + Of years that in their grave so long have lain, + To-day’s dull ear, through poets’ tuneful rhyme + No echo hears, nor mocking friar’s strain. + + _July_ 17, 1884. + + + + + LILITH. + + BOOK I. + + + Pure as an angel’s dream shone Paradise. + Blue mountains hemmed it round; and airy sighs + Of rippling waters haunted it. Dim glades, + And wayward paths o’erflecked with shimmering shades, + And tangled dells, and wilding pleasances, + Hung moist with odors strange from scented trees. + Sweet sounds o’erbrimmed the place; and rare perfumes, + Faint as far sunshine, fell ’mong verdant glooms. + In that fair land, all hues, all leafage green + Wrapt flawless days in endless summer-sheen. + Bright eyes, the violet waking, lifted up + Where bent the lily her deep, fragrant cup; + And folded buds, ’gainst many a leafy spray— + The wild-woods’ voiceless nuns—knelt down to pray. + There roses, deep in greenest mosses swathed, + Kept happy tryst with tropic blooms, sun-bathed. + No sounds of sadness surged through listening trees: + The waters babbled low; the errant bees + Made answer, murmurous; nor paled the hue + The jonquils wore; nor chill the wild breath grew + Of daisies clustered white in dewy croft; + Nor fell the tasseled plumes as satin soft + Upon the broad-leaved corn. Sweet all the day + O’erflowed with music every woodland way; + And sweet the jargonings of nested bird, + When light the listless wind the forest stirred. + Straight as the shaft that ’gainst the morning sun + The slender palm uprears, the Fairest one— + The first of womankind—sweet Lilith—stood, + A gracious shape that glorified the wood. + About her rounded shoulders warm and bare, + Like netted sunshine fell her lustrous hair; + The rosy flush of young pomegranate bells + Dawned on her cheeks; and blue as in lone dells + Sleep the Forget-me-nots, her eyes. With bent + Brows, sullen-creased, swart Adam gazed intent + Upon a leopard, crouched low in its place + Beneath his feet. Not once in Lilith’s face + He looked, nor sought her wistful, downcast eyes + With shifting shadows dusk, and strange surprise. + “O, Love,” she said, “no more let us contend! + So sweet is life, anger, methinks, should end. + In this, our garden bright, why dost thou claim + Ever the highest place, the noblest name? + Freely to both our Lord gave self-same sway + O’er living things. Love, thou art gone astray! + Twin-born, of equal stature, kindred soul + Are we; like dowed with strength. Yon stars that roll + Their course above, down-looking on my face, + See yours as fair; in neither aught that’s base. + Thy wife, not handmaid I, yet thou dost say, + ‘I first in Eden rule.’ Thou, then, hast sway. + Must I, my Adam, mutely follow thee? + Run at thy bidding, crouch beside thy knee? + Lift up (when thou dost bid me) timid eyes? + Not so will Lilith dwell in Paradise.” + “Mine own,” Adam made answer soft, “’twere best + Thou didst forget such ills in noontide rest. + Content I wake, the keeper of the place. + Of equal stature? Yea! Of self-same grace? + Nay, Love; recall those lately vanished eves, + When we together plucked the plantain leaves; + Yon leopard lowly stretched at my command + Its lazy length beneath my soothing hand. + At thee she snarled, disdaining half, to sheathe + ’Neath thy soft pleading eyes her milk-white teeth. + Oft, Love, in other times, in sheltered nook, + We scattered pearly millet by the brook. + Lo thine lay barren in the sand. Quick mine + Upspringing sifts o’er pale blooms odors fine: + Hateful thy chidings grow; each breeze doth bring + Ever thy plaints—thy fretful murmuring. + These many days I weary of thy sighs; + Know, Lilith, I alone rule Paradise.” + Thereat he rose, and quick at every stride + The fawning leopard gambolled at his side. + So fell the first dark shadow of Earth’s strife. + With coming evil all the winds were rife. + Lone lay the land with sense of dull loss paled. + The days grew sick at heart; the sunshine failed; + And falling waters breathed in silvery moan + A hidden ail to starlit dells alone— + As sometimes you have seen, ’neath household eaves, + ’Mong scents of Springtime, in the budded leaves, + The swallows circling blithe, with slant brown wing, + Home-flying fleet, with tender chattering, + And all the place o’errun with nested love— + So have you come, when leaves hung crisp above + The silent door. Yet not again, I ween, + Those shining wings, cleaving the air, have seen + Nor heard the gladsome swallows twittering there— + Only the empty nests, low-hung and bare, + Spake of the scattered brood.—So lonely were + To Lilith grown her once loved haunts. Nor fair + The starlit nights, slow-dropping fragrant dew, + Nor the dim groves when dawn came shifting through. + Far ’mong the hills the wood-doves’ moan she heard, + Or in some nearer copse, a startled bird; + Or the white moonshine ’mong green boughs o’erhead + Wrought her full heart to tears. “Sweet peace,” she said, + “Alas—lies slain!” + With musing worn, she brake + At last her silence, and to Adam spake: + “Beyond these walls I know not what may be— + Islands low-fringed, or bare; or tranquil sea, + Spaces unpeopled, wastes of burning sands, + Green-wooded belts, enclasping summer lands, + Or realms of dusky pines, or wolds of snow, + Or jagged ice-peaks wrapt in purple glow, + Or shadowy oceans lapped in fadeless sheen— + Yet there were Paradise, were Lilith queen. + To dally with my lord I was not meant; + To soothe his idle whims, above him bent, + Warm in my milk-white arms, lull his repose, + Nor deep in subtle kisses drown his woes. + Wherefore, since here no more dwells love, I fly + To seek my home in other lands. For why + Should Lilith wait since Adam’s empty state + More dear he holds than Lilith desolate?” + But answer soft made Adam at the word, + For faint his dying love, yet coldly stirred + Its ashen cerements: “Nay, love, our home + Within these garden walls lies safe. Wouldst roam + Without? Sweet peace, by loss, wilt thou restore + One little loss, or miss it evermore?” + “In goodly Eden, Adam, safely bide, + But I, for peace, nor love, nor life,” she cried, + “Submit to thee. Unto our Lord I own + Allegiance true; my homage his alone. + Oft have I watched the mists athwart yon peaks, + Pursuing oft past coves and winding creeks, + Have thought to touch their shining veil outspread, + In happy days ere Love, alas, was dead; + So now, farewell! Ere the new day shall break + Adown their gleaming track, my way I take.” + She turned; but ere the gate that looked without + She reached, one fleeting moment paused in doubt + Upon a river’s brink. In one swift glance + All coming time she saw. A weird romance + Wherein she traced great peoples yet unborn, + New springing cycles, strange lands cleft with tarn + Or pleasant vale, and green plains stretching far, + And quiet bays, and many a shingly bar, + And troubled seas, with bitter perils past, + And elfin shapes that jeering flitted fast + With scornful faces, leering lips that smiled, + Or bursts of laughter through that vision wild. + Uncertain, then, she stood, half loth to turn. + “Against yon deepening sky, how dimly burn + The stars, new-lit. Dear home, thou art so fair!” + She fondly sighed. + Then sudden she was ’ware + The angel near her paused, whose watchful care + Guards Eden’s peaceful bounds. Serene, his air + So tender-sweet, so pure the gentle face, + She scarce dared look upon its subtle grace. + Sad were his eyes; his words, rebuking, fell + Soft as the moonshine clear, in sleeping dell. + “My sister, go not hence, lest these gates bar + Lilith forever out. From peace afar, + Anger and pride shall lead through distant ways + Thy feet reluctant, in the evil days. + All is decreed. At yonder southern gate + Behold! waits even now my princely mate. + Thou can’st not tell which hath in our far land + The highest place. Nay; nor, indeed, whose hand + Hath grasped the noblest fame; nor yet divine + Whose brows enwound with honor, brightest shine. + In pleasant labor lurks no thought of pain; + The greatest loss oft brings the noblest gain; + The heart’s warm pulse feels not one throb of strife, + And Love is holiest crown of human life. + Ere thou didst sleep, beyond the rim of night + I heard a voice that sang. The carol light, + Scarce earth-born seemed. So sweet the matchless strain, + Its cadence weird, lowly to breathe again, + Wrapt echo, listening, half forgot; and o’er + And o’er, as joyous birds unprisoned soar, + The free notes rose. And in the silence wide, + Across the seas, across the night, I cried: + O sinless soul, whose clear voice blithely rings + ’Gainst the blue verge of stars! ’Tis Lilith sings + The happy song of love. O Love! the tint + Of light divine thou wearest. Thou hast no hint + Of storm or turmoil, or of Sin’s rough ways, + Whose feet to heaven climb, through darkest maze. + Ah, Lilith, sure the love that basely weighs, + That stoops to count its gifts, and hoarding, says, + ‘Such and so many, these indeed are mine; + I hold my treasure dear, nor covet thine;’ + This is not love; ’tis Thrift in borrowed dress, + Deceiving thee. Love giveth free largess + With open hand, clean as the whitest day; + Yea, that it gave, forgetteth it straightway. + Beyond these walls dwells bliss that lives not here? + When thou hast bartered peace, outshining clear + And storm-tossed wide, art wildly driven hence, + The outer world gives thee no recompense. + Each shining sphere that trembles in blue space + Hath orbit true—its own familiar place. + Nor doth the planet pale that gems the night + Reel wanton down, the smallest star to smite. + No twining vine, tendril, or springing shoot + Ere taught thee so; for bud and leaf and root + Doth its best self lift upward into light, + Yet climbing still, scorns not the sacred right + That shrines its fellow. + “So pattering rains + The dark roots drink—and healthful juice slow drains + Deep ’neath the mould; and with their secret toil + Bear stainless, leaf and flow’r above the soil. + Noblest the soul that self hath most forgot; + Strongest the self which hath most humbly wrought; + Purest the soul that in full light serene, + Unquestioning, enwrapt, God’s field doth glean. + I have seen worlds far hence; thy tender feet + Bleeding, will tread their stony ways. And sweet + Is love. And wedded love, grown cold and rude, + More bitter-seeming makes dull solitude. + Security is sweet; and light and warm + The young heart beats, close shut from every harm.” + “Yet,” Lilith answered slow, “in that still night + Ere He, the garden’s Lord, passed from our sight, + Hast thou forgot his words? ‘Lo this fair spot + Made for your pleasance; see ye mar it not, + Oh, twin-born pair! So richly dight with grace + Of soul and stature; unto whom the place + I give. Together rule. Bear equal sway + O’er all that live herein.’ Hath Lilith sought + A solitary reign? Hath she in aught + Offended? Nay; ’tis Adam who doth break + The compact. Therefore, unhindered let me take + My way far hence. I shall not vex his soul + With fretful plaints, where unknown stars shall roll, + Far, far away,” she sighed. + “Yet ere these bounds + Thy feet pass, linger. Lilith, list glad sounds + That greet thine ear. Slow cycles will pass on + And in the time-to-be-bright years, grow wan; + Old planets fade, new stars shall dimly burn, + But not to Eden’s peace shalt thou return. + Oft from thy yearning heart glad hope shall fail. + Thy fruit of life lift bloom all sere and pale. + Certain, small comfort bides, when joy is gone, + In Great or Less. Grim Sorrow waits to lead thee on. + Sorrow! Thou hast not seen her pallid face. + In thy most troubled dream she had no place”— + “Nay, I depart,” she said, with lips grown chill. + “Fearless and free, exiled, but princess still.” + “I may not hinder thee,” the Angel sighed; + “No soul unwilling here may ever bide.” + Slow swung the verdant gates neath saddest eyes. + _Lilith forever lost fair Paradise._ + + + + + BOOK II. + + + Soft stealing through the shade, and skirting swift + The walls of Paradise, through night’s dark rift + Lilith fled far; nor stopped lest deadly snare + Or peril by the wayside lurked. + The air + Grew chill. Loud beat her heart, as through the wind + Echoed, unseen, pursuing feet, behind. + + Adown the pathway of the mist she passed, + And reached a weird, strange land at last. + When morning flecked the dappled sky with red, + And odors sweet from waking flowers were shed, + Lilith beheld a plain, outstretching wide, + With distant mountains seamed. + Afar, a silvery tide + The blue shore kissed. And in that tropic glow + Dim islands shone, palm-fringed, and low. + In nearer space, like scarlet arrows flew + Strange birds, or ’mong the reedy fens, or through + Tall trees, of unknown leafage, glancing, went. + Now Lilith seaward passed, and stooping, bent + Her hollowed hand above the wave, and quaffed; + For she was spent with wanderings wide. Loud laughed + She then, beholding on that silent shore + Rare shells, that still faint in their pink lips bore + Wild ocean-songs; and precious stones, that bright + That dim sea’s marge, deep in the land of night + Thick strewed. + Then glad, she lifted shining eyes, + Loud crying there, “O Lilith, now arise, + Great queen-triumphant! See how wildly fair + Before me lies my realm! And from its air + Soft, sensuous, new life as ruddy wine, + My spirit drinks. Nor beauty so divine + Hath Eden’s self. Look, where upon the sands + The garish mosses spread with dainty hands, + Like goblin network fine, each fairy frond. + And dusky trees shut in broad fields beyond, + And hang long trembling garlands, age-grown-gray, + From topmost boughs adown, athwart the day; + And sweet amid these wilds, bright dewy bells + Ring summer chimes. And soft in fragrant dells, + ’Mong tender leaves, great spikes of scarlet flaunt + About the pools—the errant wild bees’ haunt— + And thick with bramble-blooms pink petals starred, + And dew-stained buds of blue, the velvet sward. + Scarce ripple stirred the sea; and inland wend + Far bays and sedgy ponds; and rolling rivers bend. + A land of leaf and fruitage in the glow + Of palest glamours steeped. And far and low + Great purple isles; and further still a rim + Of sunset-tinted hills, that softly dim + Shine ’gainst the day. “O world, new found,” she said, + “With treasures heaped and odors rare, ’mong flowers shed, + For whose dear sake I came o’er flinty ways, + And paths with danger fraught; ’mong brambly sprays, + With bleeding feet, and shoulders thorn-pierced deep. + But perils past, fade fast. And I will weep + My Eden lost no more.” And sweet and low + As one who dreams, she said, “For now I know + These mountain heights, these level plains, are mine.” + She ceased, and inland quickly turned. “Fair shine + Strange fruits thick-set, or blossoms lightly tossed + Low at my feet.” Therewith, a dusk globe, crossed + With golden bands, from bent boughs, stripped she. Through + The gleaming sphere its nectrous juices drew, + And thirsting cried—as one grown drunken: “Mine + These fruits unknown, in thorny combs that shine, + Or gray-green spikes that glow, dull on the sands. + Fain would I pluck, out-reaching eager hands, + Save that a marvel grows of ruddier rind + Out-flinging fruity breath upon the wind, + Beneath harsh spines half-hid. Nor drains + My wilful spouse such nectars fine. Nor gains + His patient care the fruitage rare, these plains + That heaps unheeded. Nay, nor bearded grains + Golding this goodly land, where Lilith reigns.” + + So passed the glad years on, and o’er her home— + Its woods and mountains, its clear streams—to roam, + She loved. The inmost throb of Nature’s heart + She felt amid the grass. Each daintiest part + Of Nature’s work she knew; each gain, each loss. + And reverent watched on high the starry cross + Gleaming, mute symbol in that southern dome + Of One—the Promised One—of days to come. + + The rifted sea-shell on the shingly beach + She scanned, pitying each inmate gone. Each + Named. ’Mong beetling crags, the sea-bird’s home, + Light-footed, went. Or, idly, in the foam + Under the cocoa-palms, her fingers dipped, + Much marveling to see where featly slipped + Beneath the waves scaled creatures, crimson-dyed + Or luminous: Barred-yellow, purple pied, + Rose-tinted, opaline, or dight with stain, + Rich as the rainbow streaks, when through the rain + The Sun’s kiss falls. Much wondered she when bright + By sedgy pools, flamingoes stalked. And light + The startled ostrich bent his headlong flight + O’er desert bare. And on the woody height + Trooped zebras, velvet-brown. The date’s green crest + Beneath, the peaceful camels lay at rest. + And slender-straight camelopards the boughs + Down-drew, the lush-green leaves thereon to browse. + Or oft ’mong oozy bogs, or through the fens, + Fearless she went, when low, ’mong reedy dens + The water-courses by, huge creatures slept, + Or in the jungles spotted panthers crept, + And in the thickets deadly serpents wound + Like blossomed wreaths, their coils upon the ground. + All forms of life she saw; with tenderest care + Uplifting humblest sprays, or blooms most rare. + Pierced the deep heart of Nature’s subtlest lore, + Touched highest knowledge, probed the inmost core + Of hidden things. She tracked each circling world + And the wide sweep of billows lightly curled. + Each page the Master writ she read, close furled + In lotus blooms, or, ’mong the storm-clouds whirled; + Or traced, star-lettered, on the flaming scroll + The night unwinds toward the southern pole. + And sometimes wiling idle days, she wove + In quaint device, gems from her treasure-trove, + Rare garlanded, or set in flashing zone + Soft emerald, sapphire pale, and many a stone + Out-gleaming amethyst. Her yellow hair + Among, the glinting diamonds shone. And there + The sultry topaz burned. And laughing, twined + She round her bare white throat red rubies shrined + In pearls. + Or she among the haunts would rove + That sheltered island birds; or in the grove, + Or ’mong the rocky cliffs, where dainty nests + They fashioned swift. She scaled the seaward crests, + And on the sands piled turtle eggs, when all + About hoarse-shrieked the water-fowl, or call + Of plovers fell among the tangled glens, + Or lonely bitterns’ boom came o’er the fens. + So traversed she her realm, when mangoes green + Baobabs by, showed freshest hues; and sheen + Of silver touched acacias slight; and lone + The solitary aloes, dreamed. The moan + Of that far sea against the shore brake soft. + And through that blossom-burdened land as oft + She roamed and far, sweet sped the passing days. + Till one dawned fairest, in whose noon-tide haze + Sweet slumbering she lay; and dreamed-steeped still, + Half conscious, caught the tinkle of a rill + In far-off Paradise. More silver clear + Across her thoughts, as once she loved to hear, + Rippled the waters, low against the stones + Where poised gemmed dragon-flies; and sudden moans + Shook ’mong blue flags. Waked, vague unrest + And tender yearning rose within her breast, + And longing love, that she ne’er more might still. + When late upon her parting day smiled chill, + Pensive she gazed upon the darkling land, + With lingering feet o’er-passed the shining strand, + And silent sat on an o’erhanging ledge, + The sea o’erlooking. Far the horizon’s edge + Athwart her gaze a rim of blue hills cleft, + Whereat she sighed. “So rose, ere I them left, + So smiled, the dim hills round my Eden home. + But I—wherefore recall, when far I roam, + Dreams vanished—gone? And now since long time dead + Is that fair past, I fain would lay it low + Where soft about it memories sweet may blow + As summer winds the fallen leaves among.” + Then passed her tender thoughts, and loud and glad + As our morn wakens, strong that yesternight slept sad, + She sang. The song triumphant upward swelled, + Unsorrowed by soft dreams or thoughts of eld— + As fresh the full, free, mellow notes did rise + As the blithe skylark’s strain, anear the skies: + + High, high, bold Eagle, soar; + I watch thy flight, above thy craggèd rock. + Below thee, torrents roar, + Down-bursting wild with angry shock + Upon the vales. O proud bird, free, + My spirit, mounting, follows thee, + Still follows thee, still follows thee. + + O Sea—O Sea so wide! + Far roll thy waves ere yet they find thy shore. + I hear thy sullen tide + Break ’neath the beetling cliffs with muffled roar. + Afar, afar, O moaning Sea, + My roving soul still follows thee, + Still follows thee, still follows thee. + + O Whirlwind black—O strong! + Thy scorching breath fierce burns the crouching land + And thou dost sweep along + The raveled clouds. O Whirlwind, see— + My spirit rising, follows thee, + Still follows thee, still follows thee. + + Nay, nay! My dauntless soul, + Still higher than thy wing, O Eagle, soars, + And wider still than roll + Thy waves, and further than thy shores, + My spirit flees—O Sea—O Sea + No more it follows, follows thee. + + Whirlwind, more strong than thou + My soul, that fearless leaps to thine embrace + And thy stern, wrinkled brow + Doth tender touch and soothingly, + And vassal art thou still to me, + That no more, Whirlwind, follows thee. + + Swift changed her mood, and darkened in her face. + As sometimes in an open, sunny place + The sudden dusks o’er crinkling waters run, + So fell her thoughts to music. And as one + That grieves, she sang. That lay—soft, weirdly clear, + The babbling waves made murmurous pause to hear: + + Fair land (she sang), O sun-steeped realm of mine, + The Sun, thy lover, hath his farewell kiss. + I only pine + While dim stars shine. + + Strong is thy Day-god! yet his parting kiss + Falls soft upon thy faltering lips. O land, + Thou hast a bliss + I ever miss. + + Fast comes the night, and warm, for thy dear sake, + The shadows curtain dusk, thy lonely rest. + I only wake + My plaint to make. + + Fair land, my lover cold, doth careless take + From my shut lips his flight. Here leaves me lone + My moan to make, + My heart to break. + + She ceased. But still the song did float and fade, + As failing sunshine soft, in woodland glade. + And Lilith, listening, heard—so wild, so shrill, + Yet dream-like, far, again that tinkling rill + In Paradise. And o’er her spirit swept + A sadness bitter-sweet, as ’neath the green palms crept + The wind, low-sighing, faint. As from lone nest + A bird torn pinion lifts, striving to soar + To shelter safe, so, Edenward once more + Turned Lilith’s drooping thoughts. + Uprose she then, + And brooding, homeward slowly went again. + + + + + BOOK III. + + + Wide through her realm she walked, and glad or lorn + She mused. So, loitering, it chanced one morn + When lone she sat upon a mountain height, + One sudden stood anear, whose dark eyes bright + Upon her shone. Pallid his face, and red + His smileless lips. “Who art thou?” Lilith said, + And faint a hidden pain her hot heart stirred, + When low, and rarely sweet, his voice she heard. + She looked, half-pleased—and half in strange surprise + Shrank ’neath the gaze of those wild, starry eyes. + “Oh, dame,” the stranger said, “where waters leap + Bright glancing down, I rested oft, where steep + Thy Eden o’er, bare-browed, a peak uprose. + Naught craving bloom or fruitage—nay, nor those + Frail joys Adam holds dear. One only boon + I sought of all his heritage. Fair ’neath the moon + I saw thee stand; and all about thy feet + The night her perfume spilled, soft incense meet. + Then low I sighed, when grew thy beauty on my sight, + ‘Some comfort yet remains, if that I might + From Adam pluck this perfect flower. Some morn— + If I (some dreamed-of morn, perchance slow-born) + This flawless bloom, white, fragrant, lustrous, pure + For ever on my breast might hold secure.’ + Yea, for thy love, through darkling realms of night + I followed thee, sharing thy fearful flight + Unseen. Lo, when thy timid heart, behind + Heard echoing phantom feet upon the wind, + ’Twas I, pursuing o’er the day’s last brink; + Wherefore, I now am here. O Lilith, think + How over-much I love thee, and how sweet + Were life with thee! O weary naked feet, + With me each onward path wilt thou not tread? + Or, if thou endest here thy quest,” he said, + “Let me too bide with thee.” + Made answer low + Lilith thereto: “Meseems not long ago + One stood at Eden’s gate like thee. But thy face + Is darker, red thy lips. Of kingly race + I know thee. Say, whence comest thou, O prince?” + “Nay, then,” he sighed, “an outcast I, long since + From Heaven thrust out; yet now, the curse is past, + Nor mourn I Heaven lost, if at the last + Thy love I win. Yea, where thou art, I know + Is Heaven. And bliss, in sooth” (oh, soft and low, + He said), “lives ever in thy smile.” + His speech + Thus ended. And toward the sandy beach + He passed. Though long her eyes the stranger sought + Where curved the distant shore, she saw him not. + + Soft through the trees the mottled shadows dropped + When Lilith in her pleasance sat. Half-propped + ’Gainst mossy trunk her slender length. Her hair + In sunny web, enmeshed her elbows bare. + Slowly the breeze swayed the mimosas slight + As Eblis pushed aside the bent boughs light. + “O dame,” he said, “it seemeth surely meet + Earth’s richest gifts to lay at Lilith’s feet; + Therefore I said ‘unto the fairest one, + Things loveliest beneath the shining sun + I bring.’ Since of all crafts in this young earth + I am true master, unto her whose worth + So much deserves, I bear this marble sphere, + Whose hollowed husk, well polished, gleaming clear, + Hides rarest fruit.” Therewith the globe he showed, + The half whereof smooth-sparkling was: Half glowed + With carven work; embossed with pale leaves light, + And delicately sculptured birds in flight, + And clustered flowers frail. Lilith drew near + With beaming eyes, and laid the graven sphere + Against her smiling lips; o’ertraced the vine + That circled it with fingers slim. “Mine, mine + Is it, O prince?” she cried. “I know not why + Its beauty doth recall the winds’ long sigh + That surged among the palms. Methinks is dead + Some summer-tide, that in its own sweet stead + Hath left upon the stone its imaging.” + Eblis replied: “On earth, is anything + More fair? If such thou knowest, Lilith, speak. + That I, for thee, surely would straightway seek. + Say, if indeed thou findest anywhere, + On land or sea, created things so rare?” + And Lilith answered, “On this earth so round, + Naught else so lovely anywhere I found. + So shames it meaner work—so had I said— + But see yon nodding palm that droops its head + Low sighing o’er the wave. Bring me a bough + So feathery-fine. Turn thy white sphere! Now + On its cold, fair surface, Eblis, canst thou + Such branches carve, or tender fronds, that we + Bright waving on the cocoa, these may see?” + And Eblis wrought till grew upon the stone + Such airy boughs as on the cocoa shone. + Then Lilith cried: “Skilled craftsman, proven thou! + Didst thou, then, make my cocoa-tree? Thy bough + Pale graven give the grace of its green crown + When through it night winds gently slip adown. + No charm of color, nor of change, nor glow + Of blue noon sky, thy carven work doth show; + Let dusk bees visit it—or sip the breath + From thy chill marble buds.” Then, Lilith saith, + “Eblis hath wroughten noblest on this earth.” + He answered quick, “Poor bauble, little worth + To Lilith! Ope thy slighted husk, reveal + The miracle thy rough rind doth conceal!” + + He touched a hidden spring, and wide apart + The riven sphere showed its white hollow heart, + And in the midst a gem; the which he laid + Within her hand. “Behold,” he said, “I made + Most fair for thee this lustrous blood-red sard, + And deftly traced its gleaming surface hard + With carvings thick of bright acacias slim, + Pomegranates lush and river-reeds. Its rim + A spray of leaves enchased, white as with rime + Night fallen. ‘Slow drags the lagging time,’ + I said, ‘till one day shines upon the breast + Of her, whose perfect beauty worthiest + It decks, this gem.’ The token, Lilith, take; + If lovelier there be, for Eblis’ sake + Keep silent; yet with me, oh Lilith, go + Awhile from thine own land. Then shall I know + The gem finds favor in thine eyes.” + Then she + Turned from her pleasance and all silently + Passed to the sea, across the yellow strand + That, glimmering, ringed her shadowy land. + “Oh cool,” he said, “the lucent waves that fret + The barren shore, and curl their scattered spray wet + ’Gainst thy hand. Come! my longing pinnace waits + To bear thee far. Her slender keel now grates + Upon the beach; and swift her shapely prow + Will skim the deep, as swallows’ fleet wing. Thou + Seest! comely and strong it is. For thee + Its golden sails, its purple canopy. + With skin of spotted pard, I cushioned it. + Ere the fresh breeze doth die, light let us flit + Across the sea. No craft so proud, so staunch, + Goes glancing through the foam. I safely launch + Her now, and speed to fairy isles. Come thou + With me.” And glad she crossed the burnished prow; + And ’mong the thick furred rugs sat down. “Oh craft, + Fair fashioned, lightly built, speed far,” she laughed; + “To other lands bear Lilith safe.” + As sailed + They idly on, her slender hand she trailed + Among the waves, and sudden cried, “Indeed, + A craft stauncher than thine floats by. What need + Hath it of helm, or prow, or silken sail, + Sure harbor finding when the ocean gale + Fast drives it onward?” A nut she drew, round, + Rough, coarse-husked, forth from the wave. “Lo, I found,” + She said, “this boat well built. The cocoa-tree + Cast it amid the foam. Its pilot free, + The summer wind; its port, the misty shore + Of ocean isles. It fades from sight. ‘No more,’ + We say, ‘it sails the wild uncertain main,’ + But when the drifting days are gone, again + We turn our prow, and reach the barren isles + Where, stranded as we went, the nut. Now smiles + Above; a bending tree. Aloud we cry, + ‘A miracle is wrought!’ We draw anigh. + Behold, the cocoa, towering, doth spring + Forth from the brown nut’s heart. About it cling + Sweet odors faint; and far stars trembling peep. + When through its bowers cool the breezes creep. + Strong, indeed, thy boat, well builded! I wis + There be yet other craft as firm, Eblis, + That o’er these trackless waters boldly glide. + Brave Nautilus afar, doth fearless ride, + With sails of gossamer. So, too, doth spread, + To summer airs, his silken gleaming thread, + The water-spider fleet, free sailor true + That in the sunshine floats, beneath the blue, + Glad skies. And through the deep, all sparkling, slip + A thousand insect-swarms, that, rippling, dip + Amid the merry waves. Bright voyagers + That roam the sultry seas! Look, the wind stirs + Our creaking sails! Thy pinnace flying o’er + The ocean’s swell, fast leaves the fading shore; + Yet faster still the Nautilus sails by, + And darts the spider quick. And swifter fly + The insect-fleets among the foam; yet think + Not when among the billows wild doth sink + Thy bounding boat, I fear. Nor would I slight + Thy skill, that made it strong, and swift, and light, + And trimmed it gayly, for my sake.” + Now near + A jutting shore Prince Eblis drew, where sheer + The brown rocks rose. And just beyond, a slim + Beach of white sand curved to the ocean’s brim. + Thereto he came, and high upon the strand + Drew the boat’s keel. “Welcome, fair queen, to land + That Eblis rules,” he said. “I fain would show + Thee what thou hast not seen in the warm glow + Of thy glad home. This blighted shore of mine + No verdure hath, nor bloom, nor fruits that shine + ’Mong drooping boughs. Far inland gloom lone peaks + O’er blackened meads; or from their bare cones leaps + Gaunt, crackling flame; or crawl like ashen veins + The smouldering fires across the stricken plains. + Deep in these yawning caves black shadows lie + That shall be lifted never more. Come, I + Enter! Know thou what treasure by the sea + I gathered other time.” Therewith showed he + Hid ’mong the high heaped rocks a dusky grot + Where never sunshine fell. A dismal spot + Where dank the sea-weeds coiled and cold the air + Swept through. And stooping, Eblis downward rolled + Before her webs of woven stuff, in fold + Of purple sheen, enwrought with flecks of gold. + Great wefts of scarlet and of blue, thick strewn + With pearls, or cleft with discs of jacinth stone; + And drifts of silky woof and samite white, + And warps of Orient hues. Eblis light + Wound round her neck a scarf of amber. Wide + Its smooth folds sweeping flowed; and proud he cried, + “Among these hills, in the still loom of night, + I wrought for Lilith’s pleasing, all. And bright + Have spun these webs, in blended morning hues + And noontide shades and trail of silver dews— + Hereon have set fair traceries of cloud-shine + And tints of the far vales. The textures fine + Glow with sweet thoughts of thee. And otherwhere + Hast thou such fabrics seen, or colors rare + As these?” Dawned in her eyes a swift delight, + And low she cried, “Oh, wondrous is the sight, + And much it pleaseth me. But yet,” she said, + “Beside my knee one morn, its hooded head + A Hagè reared. Its gliding shape so near + To subtler music moved, than my dull ear + Could catch. Its velvet skin I gently strake, + Watching the light that o’er its heaped coils brake + In glittering waves. Within its small, wise glance, + Flame silent slept, or quick in baleful dance + Before my startled gaze quivering did wake. + Fair is thy woof, soft woven, yet the snake + Out-dazzles it. The beetle that doth boom + Its dull life out among the tangled gloom, + Lift his wide wing above thy weft, or trail + His splendor there, and thy poor web will pale; + Yea, the red wayside lily that doth snare + The girdled bee, is softer still, more fair + Than finest woven cloth.” But tenderly + She smoothed the gleaming folds. “Much pleaseth me, + Natlhess,” she said, “such loveliness.” Then brought + He tapestries of fleeces fine, well wrought + In colors soft as woodland mosses’ tinge, + Or glow of autumn blooms: Heavy with fringe + Of downward sweeping gold; arras, where through + Showed mottled stripes, or arabesques of blue, + Broad zones of red, and tender grays, and hue + Of dropping leaves. “Lilith,” he said, “when rolled + The storm-tossed billows round these caves, behold + I spun these daintily. ’Twere hard to find + Such twisted weft or woven strand.” “Oh, kind,” + She said, “is Eblis, unto whom I fain + Would give due thanks. His gorgeous train + But yesterday I saw the peacock spread; + Bright in the sun gleamed his small crested head; + His haughty neck wrinkled to green and blue, + And since I needs must truly speak, I knew + Not color rich as his: and I have seen + The curious nest among the branches green, + The busy weaver-bird plaits of thick leaves, + And in and out its pliant meshes weaves; + And since thou sayest ’twere hard to match thy fine, + Strong, woven fabrics, watch the weaver twine + His cunning wefts. Though still,” she said, “think not + I scorn thy gifts, Prince Eblis; for I wot + Their worth is greater than my tongue can say.” + Then Eblis deeper in the cave led her a little way, + And showed a stately screen of such fine art + One almost felt the breeze that seemed to part + The pictured boughs. And o’er the stirless lake + Dreamed the swift, wimpling waters sudden brake + Among the willows on its brink—and flowers + Of scarlet, shining-clean from summer showers; + And Eblis said, “Cold praise a friend should spare + This picture true. Certain naught else will dare + Vie with such beauty.” + Archly Lilith took + The rose from her bright hair, and lightly shook + The dewdrop from its heart. “I loving, touch,” + She said, “these petals smooth. O, Eblis, such + Give to thy painted blooms; give its cool sheen + Of morningtide, the mossy, lush leaves green + That fold it round. Give its faint, fragrant breath, + When with the fickle breeze it dallieth. + Nay, fairer still my rose than gilded screen, + Though it be limned with perfect art, I ween.” + Thereat smiled Eblis bitterly. “I bring + One parting gift,” he said, “a dainty thing; + Perchance in other time it will recall + One who strove long and patiently through all + These days to win thy praise.” An oval plane + Of crystal gave he her; of fleck or stain + Clear-gleaming. Of ivory carven fine + The frame. And when she looked, “Divine,” + He laughed, “the beauty it enshrines. Canst claim + Aught else is fairer?” And Lilith again + Gazed in the glass, her face beholding there, + Her pink flushed cheeks, her yellow streaming hair. + Quick came her breath. “O prince,” she slowly said, + “Fair is the stranger. Bid those lips so red + Speak once to Lilith. For methinks the voice + Of such in music flowed. Let me rejoice + Therein.” “O glorious counterfeit!” cried + He. “Lovelier is not on this earth wide! + Behold, sweet Lilith, ’tis thine own pure face + That lends my happy mirror perfect grace + It else had not. Bid thou thine image speak! + No other happiness I elsewhere seek, + If the soft tale she whispers be of me.” + And Lilith answered gravely, “I know thee, + Eblis. Master indeed of all crafts thou— + Red Sard, and marble sphere, and agile prow + Of pinnace light well wroughten were by thee + And decked full fair. And, beauteous to see, + Fine woven weft and web, and the tall screen + O’errun with painted bloom, crystal, with gleam + Of Lilith’s face—thou madest these. Mayhap + Beetle and asp likewise didst tint—didst wrap + The green about my rose, and richly fringe + My cocoa-tree, or peacock’s train didst tinge + With dazzling hues. Methought thou wert a prince, + But now Lilith should humbly kneel, since + Thou art far higher than she deemed, if thou + Madest these wondrous things.” And lowly now + As she would kneel, she drew anigh. But he + Cried, shrinking, “Nay, I made them not.” And she + Low questioned, “Eblis, tell me who then, did make + Them all. Who set the creeping hooded snake + And stealthy pard within the thorny brake, + And spread the sea, and wreathed the waterfall + With foam? Who reared the hoar hills, towering tall + Above the lands?” With eyes wild flashing, low + He groaned: “O Lilith, ask me not. My foe + He was—he is. Trembles with wrath my frame + If I but faintly breathe his awful name.” + Lilith replied, “Meseemeth, master true + Of every craft is He.” + Forth the two + From that drear cavern passed. Ere the water’s brim + They gained, he plucked the wilding reeds, that slim + Stood by a brook. “My pipe I make, one strain + Harmonious to wake. Nor yet again + Shalt thou such fresh notes hear. Music like mine + Methinks thou hast not known in any time.” + He laid his pipe unto his lips, and blew + A blast, wild, piercing, sweet. The far hills through + It rung. And softer fell, yet wild and clear. + It ceased. With drooping eyes, “Once I did hear + A song as wildly clear, as sad,” she said, + “In mine own realm.” And as she spoke, dark dread + The sky grew with a coming storm. “Oh, haste,” + He cried; “seek refuge ere this dreary waste + Reeks with the rain!” And fast they sped + Back to his ocean-cave. There safe, o’erhead + They watched the piling clouds. With angry roar + The baffled billows broke upon the rocks. O’er + Them rushed the shrieking storm. Wild through the grot + Wandered the prisoned wind, a troubled ghost that sought + Repose. Or low did moan, and trembling, wail, + Like some sore-hearted thing that hideth, pale, + And dare not front the day; and wilder still, + In chords melodious, swelled or sank, until + She sighed, “Oh, this weird harp among the caves, + Strange players hath! For loud as one that raves, + It rises. Now more sweetly fade away + Its mellow notes than thy thin pipes.” “One day,” + He said, “mayhap my strain may please, when wind + Doth not outpipe my slighted reeds. Unkind + Thou art.” “The storm is past; to mine own land + I would return,” she said. And Eblis o’er the strand + Led her. And homeward silent turned his prow + That swiftly through the swirling waves did plow. + But when they parted, Eblis mused, “I know + No gift soever winneth her, rich though + It be and seemly. Into this pure soul, + Through fear of ill, I enter; or by goal + Of future gain before it set.” + So came + He to her pleasance yet again. A flame + Leaped high above a brazier that he bore, + Its sweet, white, scented wood quick lapping o’er. + With darkened face Eblis above her hung. + “This hath, than my poor pipe, a keener tongue,” + Smileless and stern, he said. “Oh, dame, + List how the wild, crisp, crackling ruby flame + Eats through the tender boughs. A trusty knave + It is, that serves me well, and loud doth rave + As tiger caged. When I do set it free, + With angry fangs leaps on its prey. But see, + It now sleeps harmlessly, till Eblis calls + His faithful servant back. Lilith, when falls + The red fire at thy feet, dost fear?” “Nay, nay,” + She cried, and drew her white neck up. “A way + To tame it thou hast found. Believe me, since + It is thy slave I too will bind it, prince. + Should Lilith fear? Unfaltering, these eyes + Have watched when rushing storm-clouds heaped the skies, + And the black whirlwind, with loud, deafening roar, + Beat the torn waves; or whirled against the shore + The tumbling billows, with fierce lips that bit + The shrinking land. And the wreathed lightnings split + The cloud with thunder dread: or wildly burst + Upon the sea the water-spout. Shall first + She fear thy flame, who feared not these?” “Fit mate + Art thou for Eblis,” answered he. “His fate + Share, great-souled one. Thou wouldst not meanly shrink, + Though his strong heart did fail. O Lilith, think! + The crown of clustered worlds thou mayest find, + If thou with him who loveth thee wilt bind + Thy life.” “Nay, far happier seems to me + Than eagle caged, the wild lark soaring free,” + She said. And through her rose-pleached alleys strayed + They to the sea. And tender music made + That guileful voice; yet slow his wooing sped + Those summer days. But when were dead + And brown the crisping leaves, “Oh, love,” he said, + “Of all the centuries, thou rarest bloom, + Thy shut heart open wide. Its sweet perfume, + Though I should die, fain would I parting drink. + Sleeps yet thy love? From me no longer shrink, + My Lilith. Oh, lift up thy tender eyes; + In their blue depths doth happy morning rise; + ’Tis night if they be closed.” + She softly sighed; + And ancient strife recalling, thus replied: + “When dwelt a prince discrowned, well satisfied? + And fallen, loving, still art thou a prince, + And otherwhiles might sorrow bring me, since + It might hap thou wouldst much desire her realm, + Were Lilith thine; for princes seize the helm + When Love lies moored, and bid the shallop seek + Across the waves new lands. But Love is weak, + And so, alas, the craft upon the sands + Is dashed, while one, on-looking, wrings her hands. + Such days I have outlived. Like Adam, thou + Perchance will seek to bind the loosed. Then how + (If one hath drunken wine of liberty) + Shall she, athirst, rejoice; no longer free, + Be glad?” + “My love,” he said, “large-hearted lives, + Full dowers thee, and royal bounty gives, + Nor knoweth law, save Lilith’s wish alone.” + “Why, then,” she answered, “on the polished stone + That fronts yon hill, write, Eblis, in full day, + That other time we read it clear, and say, + ‘Hereon are graven all those early vows + We whispered low aneath the summer boughs,’ + Write every word. That so the stone shall be + Ever a witness mute twixt thee and me. + Then shall I know thou seekest in me no thrall + For after-days, if thou make compact. All + Thou hast said, write now.” + Then on the stone, + As she had said, graved Eblis, and thereon + Did set his seal. So wedded they: and hand + In hand the wide world roamed. Or in her land + Abode. And oft, of hours, ere yet on earth + He walked, she questioned. Or he loosed with mirth + Her yellow hair, down-streaming o’er his arm; + And ’gainst his cheek her breath came sweet and warm; + As through his dusky locks caressing played + Her fingers slim; and shadows, half afraid, + She saw in his wild eyes. + Or paths remote + They trod, watching the white clouds rise and float + Athwart the sky. Or by the listless main, + Or ’neath the lotus bough, slow paced the twain. + Or dragon-trees spread their cool leafy screen. + And faint crept odors through the mangroves green, + Where paused the pair upon the sandy shore. + Love-tranced, unheeded, swiftly passed them o’er + Glad summer days: till one hour softly laid + At Lilith’s feet a fair, lone babe, that strayed + From distant Dreamland far. So might one deem + That looked upon its face. Or, it might seem + From other climes, a rose-leaf blown apart, + Down-fluttered there, to gladden Lilith’s heart. + + + + + BOOK IV. + + + To that fair Elf-child other summers came; + But Lilith walked, heart-hungered, filled with shame, + Naught comforted. And in that shadow-land + She sorrowing bore, in after-time, a band + Of elfin babes, that waked dim echoes long + Forgotten there, and ghastly bursts of song. + Then Lilith saddened more, for that she knew + The curse was fallen now. And cried she through + Fast-falling tears, “Oh, me most desolate, + That shall not know in any time the fate + Of happier mothers! Nay, nor cool touch + Of baby hands. Oh, longed-for, loved so much! + Alas, my babes, ere yet hour-old ye fly, + Out-spreading shining wings with jeering cry, + Afar from me. Most hapless I, from whom + The crown of motherhood, yet white with bloom, + Falls blighted! Close in these empty arms fain + Would I clasp my babes! My tender pain + But once could ye not solace? Nay, ’tis vain; + I shall not kiss their lips, nor hear again, + As gladder mothers may, low-rippling, sweet, + The laughter children bring about their feet. + Oh, soulless ones, can ye not wait awhile, + ’Till on your loveless lips I wake one smile?” + But merrily out-laughed the phantom crew; + On shining pinions white, swift seaward flew, + Or upward rose, slow-fading in the blue; + Or lured her trembling, green morasses through. + And ’mong the frothy waves they vanished fast; + Or shrieked with glee borne on the wintry blast, + And wilder raised their warlock song. + While fairer grew each day that elfin throng. + + To pluck the mangoes brown, fair Lilith sped + One morn. Quick throbbed her heart. On mossy bed + Lay all her babes. With face like morning, shone + One there, and wide her yellow hair out-blown + As ’twere in play. Red-flushed her cheeks, and deep + About her lips the baby smiles. Asleep + Was one, white-gleaming, pure as pearl unseen + In sunless caves, close-shut. And one did lean + Against his fellow, lithe, sun-flushed and brown, + With rings of jetty hair that low adown + His bosom streamed. And one there was, whose dream + O’erflowed with laughter. And one did seem + Half-waking. One, with dimpled arms in sleep + Thrust elbow-deep in moss, that sure did weep + Ere yet he slept, and on his cheek scarce dried + The wilful tears. + Then low, pale Lilith cried + As near she drew, down-bending tender eyes: + “And are ye here, my babes; and will ye rise + If I but break your sleep?” His naked feet + One faintly moved as low she leant; and warm + His slumbrous breath stirred ’gainst her circling arm, + And slow aneath his closed lids slipped a waft + Of wind, that loosed a trickling tear. Its craft + The mother-heart forgot thereat. “At last, + Close to my breast, my babes,” she cried, and fast + Laughing, outstretched her eager hands and strong. + Then lay with empty arms. + The elfin throng + Breasted the pulsing air with mocking song. + “Alas,” she said, “could ye not give one kiss— + One tender clasp of hands! And must I miss + Your throbbing hearts from my cold, barren breast, + Ye soulless ones, that flout my lonely rest?” + + There, prostrate, long lay Lilith, and there, late + ’Mid dew-fall, Eblis found his stricken mate. + “O Eblis, say o’er me what curse hangs bare, + For now no more,” she said, “this realm seems fair. + Its fruits grow bitter, all its light falls chill. + With thee, my prince, poor Lilith mates but ill— + Earth-born, with angel linked. Alas, is left + No joy to me, of my sweet ones bereft. + Methinks soft baby lips might erewhile drain + From Lilith’s famished heart its wildest pain. + Wherefore, my Eblis, it were wise to seek + Surcease of grief. That Lilith, is so weak + Who wedded thee; and that she sinned, knew not. + Yet, if we part, mayhap may follow naught + Of other ills.” + “Sweet love,” he laughed, “o’er-late + Thou art so timorous. At Eden’s gate + Not so, what time the angel barred her way + My Lilith stood. Shelter within my arms. Oh, say, + Was not our young love sweet? Hath it grown cold? + With me thou sharest endless life; nor old, + Nor shrivelled, shalt thou be. And not one trace + Of earth’s decay (sure doom of thy sad race) + Shall taint thy babes. For lo, I give + Thy soulless ones immortal youth. They live + Without a pang. And yet, methinks the cry + Of Earth adown the ages sounds, when die + Its babes; and mothers bend dumb lips above, + And fold still hands, that answer not their love. + Lilith, doth not indeed my love outweigh + Caresses missed from phantom babes? Astray + From Eden long, here in this fair domain + To bide; and through long cycles fearless reign + Methinks were joy. In summer sheen + Wide spreads thy land. The marge of islets green + The palm-trees skirt. Soft shine the dusk lagoons + And inland mountains. Mirk the jungle’s glooms, + And fair thy fertile plains. Oh, sweet the glow + When we together watch the day, that low + Among the winds lies still. Shut lilies blow + While here we wait. Come, for they fain would show + Their golden hearts. Or, love, with me to float + Were it not sweet, through flowery bays remote, + Past coves and peaks? Or pierce yon ocean’s verge, + And through wild tumbling waves our sails to urge?” + “Yea, sweet is love,” she said, “and sweet to roam + By listless currents lulled; or ’mid the foam + Low dip our feathery oars,” she sighed, “yet sore + Is still the mother-heart that hears no more + The lisping tongues. And sad, when baby smiles + Have left it desolate. And baby wiles + Shall cheer it never more.” + “Yet,” Eblis said, + “Lilith, no longer mourn. For I have read + Upon a scroll as samite glistening white, + All coming fate, close hid from human sight, + Great peoples yet shall dwell in these dusk lands. + Then shall thy children, shadowy bands + That fly thy fond caress, with them abide + In closest fellowship. And though they hide + Sometimes from human ken their better selves, + Still loved, remain these tricksy elves. + Though yet indeed some quips and pranks they play, + ’Tis but a jest, men know, when far away + The flickering marsh-fires swift they light + And children follow their false tapers bright + Among the spongy bogs. The ship-lad smiles, + When distant ’mid the waves the phantom isles + Rise green. ’Tis but a harmless jest that sets + On lonely plains, domes, mosques, and minarets, + And o’er the desert sands, mirage uplifts + When glimmering waves shine through deep rifts + Of crested palms. + “Still dearer they when wide + To undiscovered lands men boldly ride + Across new seas, and turn their venturous prows. + When tempests shriek, and wet about their brows + The salt spray dashes fierce, one, watching, cries, + ‘Good mates, no storm I fear, for yonder rise + The Elf-babes ’mid the foam. Ye goblin crew, + That sail these unknown seas, we follow you + To harbor safe. Ho, ho! With beckoning hands, + Wind-driven, loud they cry—My mates! the lands, + The golden lands we seek, are ours!’ + + “In Earth’s brown bosom pent, the hardy wight + Long in deep caverns dwells; and hard doth smite + The rocky caves. Nor sees the golden spoil + Through weary days of wasted, lonely toil. + From his wild eyes, far-flying hides the prize, + Till desperate, angered, worn, aloud he cries: + ‘Vain, vain! The caves my labor answer not, + Nor yellow threads, that gleam in any grot. + Hard, cruel, silent hills, my strength ye mock, + And seal your treasures close in flinty rock; + So, after toilsome years, sweet wife, I bring + To thee no sparkling love-gift. Nay, nor anything + To cheer our failing time.’ + + “Then round him hears + He sturdy blows, and listening, almost fears + He dreams. But swift the echoes rise, and still + More loudly roll, and quick replies the hill. + Reverberant, through all the caverns round, + The uproar swells, and fills the world with sound. + Then lists he once again. ‘With lusty shocks + Your hammers ring against the hard-ribbed rocks— + Goblins!’ he boldly shouts, ‘smite! smite! ye bring + My treasure forth, dark-beating goblin wing + Among the gleaming caves, whose dusk veins hold + The gold. At last! At last, the ruddy gold!’ + + “And lone, in stricken fields, the husbandman + Sits pale, with anxious eyes that hopeless scan + The burning sky. Hot lie the glimmering plain + And uplands parched. ‘Behold, the bending grain, + Fair in the springtide, now is dead; and dry + The brooks. If yet the rainfall fail, we die + Of famine sore. No bleating lambs I hear in fold + Safe shut, nor lowing kine; nor on the wold + The whir of mounting bird: Nor thrives about me + Any living thing. So seemeth, end must be + Of striving. Since all the land is cursed, + What matter if by famine scorched, or thirst, + We die?’ he saith. + “And thick the warlock swarm + Above his head, wide-spreading dark wings warm, + Fast flitted by. The waiting fields he stands + Among. And laughing, claps exultant hands. + ‘Good speed ye, Sprites! that bring the welcome cloud + And pile the vapors thick,’ he shouts aloud. + Oh! sweet shall bloom again the bending grain, + And clothe afresh the wide, the wasted plain. + The clouds sweep black. Ha, ha! Against my cheek + The big drops fall. Merry the goblins shriek. + Behold, they mount, they sink, they rise again. + Ho, friendly elves, that bring the longed-for rain!’” + + Thereat, he, smiling, ceased. And when soft crept + The listening stars across the sky, they slept + Untroubled, ’neath the mango-trees. + But when midway + The night was spent, Prince Eblis waking lay. + Soft Lilith’s breathing ’mong the droopt leaves stirred. + And he, sore troubled, mused on every word + That Lilith spake ere yet they slept. In all + Foreseeing much of ill that might befall + Their love. “O, queenly soul! Of finer grain + Thou art than angels are. And more in brain + Than man, I hold thee. Sooth, yet taints thee still + One touch of womankind. And since so chill + She finds her babes, must I forego my vow? + For one flaw, Hope’s clear crystal break? Oh, how + Ally her cause with mine! So doth she long + For human love—a baby hand is strong + To hurl my empire down. From her soft heart + Red, baby lips can drain revenge, and start + Unbidden tears. And pity wakes to life + When ’mong dead embers she sits lone, and strife + Is done. + “Then, at Regret’s dull heels, lo, fast, + Retrieving follows. Happy days long past + She will recall. If so for love she yearn, + Back to her early home once more will turn, + Pardoning her wilful lord. And he again + Shall win the woman I so love, and fain + Would hold forever. Lilith, thou one balm + Of my lost soul in all this world! Shall calm + My sufferings, or love me, any one, save thee, + When thou in Adam’s arms forgettest me? + My only love! Nay, then, ’twere surely wise + To shut these baby faces from her eyes, + New seeds of wrath to sow, her hate so feed + That all her rankling wounds afresh shall bleed. + And in her ears ‘Good Adam!’ will I cry, + Lest she forget Eden she lost thereby. + Yea, ‘Adam!’ I will laugh. Till her red lips with guile + O’erflow. And she shall curse him loud. With subtlest wile + Safe won, then shall she ever be mine own. + Soul-bound to me in hate, more terrible than death + In hate, that long outlasts Love’s puny breath— + O cunning craft, that with the self-same blow + Forever wins my love, and smites my foe! + + “Last night, when Lilith slept, lest I might mar + Her dreams, from our green couch I rose, and far + Passed silent. Know I not the spell that draws + My feet unwilling, Edenward. Its laws + I may not brave to rend my foe. Nor there + The Angel pass, unseen. The night so fair, + As prone among the glistening leaves I lay, + On Adam shone. Not sad, as on a day + Erstwhile he seemed. And I could almost swear + The sound of silvery laughter on the air + Fell soft. And a fleet footfall ’mong the flowers + Scattered the dew. Yet ’mid those silent bowers + Naught else I saw or heard save rippling flow + Of waters, and the moonshine white. Oh, low + Speak, Eblis, lest aloud the night may tell + Thy secret to the stars. Yet it were well + If lies the hidden cure for Lilith’s woe + Close shut in Paradise. + “All would we know, + If we, close hid without those verdant walls, + Together watched. What fate soe’er befalls + I care not, if with me she bide.” + Down bent + He o’er her hair, thick with the night-dew sprent. + Soft kissed it, crying, “Love, the morn shines bright. + Waken, my Lilith, now. Through lands of night + Our happy course afar doth ever wend; + Past smiling shores where mighty rivers bend, + Past cove and cape and isle, and winding bay + And still blue mists, that hang athwart the day.” + Thereat she rose, and joyously they sped + By broad lagoons where musky odors shed + New blooms. About them coiled long wreaths of vine, + And slim lianas drooped, and marish lichens fine. + And fared they on o’er many a slanting beach + And mountain crest; past many an open reach + And forest wild—till over Paradise + They saw the stars, clear, tender, loving, rise. + Then ’neath the screen of those rose-girdled walls + They hid without, listing the waterfalls, + Or bird belated, twittering to its nest. + So still the spot, the very grass to rest + Seemed hushed. + The garden-close, a clinging rose o’ercrept. + Its lustrous stem without that drooping swept + Thick set with buds as tintless as the snows + On sunless hills, when wild the north wind blows. + + Lilith a-tiptoe stood; upreaching, caught + The swaying boughs. Her eyes with longing fraught + Close scanned her old deserted home. Then came + Upon her spirit sadness, as if blame + Unuttered breathed through those remembered glades + And touched the odors moist ’mong mirky shades. + With wistful gaze, she traced each bosky dell, + Each winding path. And sweet youth’s memories fell + About her. + Then was she ware of Adam, slow + Pacing the pleasance-ways. With ruddy glow + Fresh shone his cheeks, and crisp his hair out-blown + By wanton winds. His lips were mirthful grown. + Once he made pause hard by the coppice green + That hid the watcher. Once the leafy screen + So near he passed, from the overhanging edge + He brushed a rose. The hindering hedge + Quick through, in sudden blessing slim white hand + Fain had she reached. “O Eden mine! Dear land,” + She sighed. And springing warm the tender tide + Of teardrops gemmed the roses at her side. + + So greets the weary wanderer once more + His early home. The lintels worn, the door + Age-stained; the iris clumps, in sheltered nook; + The mill-wheel rotting o’er the shrunken brook; + The sunny orchard, sloping west; and far + And cold, above his mother’s grave, a star— + Then quick unbidden tears, the heart’s warm rain, + O’erflow his soul, and leave it pure again. + So Lilith backward turned to holier days, + Watching through misty tears where trod those ways + Her feet in other times. + Sudden and sweet + Came down those paths a glimpse of flying feet; + A sound of girlish laughter smote the air. + In jealous rage, Lilith uprose to dare + The guarding Angel’s wrath. But, silver clear, + The mocking laugh of Eblis caught her ear. + “Thou hast forgot,” he said, “this peaceful land, + Living, thou canst not enter.” + But her hand + Grasped once again the roses’ shining strand, + And ’neath her guileful touch, like scarlet flame + The snowy flowers burned. So, first Earth’s shame + Around them set the spikèd thorns. + Long there + Pale Lilith looked, as coldly still and fair + As carven stone. Then, with a fierce despair, + A sense of utter loss, downbending there, + With fingers hot she tore the hedge apart + And laid thereto her face. With sorer smart + She gazed again. For now, the twain at rest + Were laid. Pure as a dream, Eve’s sinless breast + A babe close pressed. One pink foot, small and warm, + Among the leaves was hid. One dimpled arm + Aneath her head. + Low Eblis sneered. “I wot + In young Eve’s arms my Lilith is forgot. + Oh, soon,” he said, “these earth-worms changeful turn— + From the oped rose when red the shut buds burn.” + But wild eyes on the babe she fixed. “Oh, blind,” + She cried, “was I. Yea, if the wanton wind + Doth mock, I will not chide. Was it for this + I wandered far, and bartered Eden’s bliss? + For this have lost the very bloom of life? + So Adam comfort finds, not knowing strife! + Look you, that fragile thing at Adam’s side— + I heed her not. But Lilith is denied + The treasure she so careless doth possess. + See how the babe, scarce waking, doth caress + The mother! Look! Oh, hear the mother croon + Above her child! Ah, Eblis, love, I swoon— + I shall not know such joy. Alas, to me + No babe shall come! Accurséd may she be, + Cursed Adam too. Thrice heavy on the head + Of this poor babe my wrong be visited.” + So, trembling, she brake off. + “Fast fades the light, + Sweet love. Once more to our dark realm of night + Let us return,” he said. + As on fared they + With merry jest, Eblis gan cheer the way. + “Nay, otherwhiles mirth pleased,” she said. “Knowest thou + What name she bears, who dwells in Eden now? + When Lilith went, long tarried Adam lone?” + She said. Replied he, “All to me is known + Since that same hour you parted. What befell, + To thee as we wend onward I will tell. + + “Calm morn in Eden streaked the skies with red, + And flushed the waiting hills above the grassy bed + Where Adam, joyless, saw new rise the sun, + Unwinding golden webs night-vapors spun + Athwart low meads. Slow, droning murmurs sent + The waking bees, with bloom and fragrance blent. + Unheeded poured her music blithesome Day + The reedy brooks beside and shallows gray. + For lone to Adam seemed the place, and cold; + The landscape dumb, as one aneath the mould. + For Lilith’s sake, no more was Eden fair. + Bloomless the days, the nights bowed down with care. + Oft pacing pathways dim, he saw the gleam + Of strange-faced flowers beside the purling stream, + Or toyed with circling leaves; or plucked the grass, + And watched through rifted trees the clouds o’erpass; + Wide roaming, heard the waters idly break + Far ’gainst the curving beach. + “And grieving, spake, + ‘Oh, sweet with thee each hour—each wilding way, + And sweet the memory of each gathered spray. + Could you not wait, dear love? Or come once more? + Yea, ’till you come, vain doth great Nature pour + Her richest gifts.’ He paused, and heard alone + Respondent fall, the wood-dove’s plaintive moan, + And the spent winds among the scented glades. + Moss-couched beneath the glinting forest shades, + He gazed, when shadows o’er the hills crept light, + Quick vanishing, like phantom fingers white, + Until on mead, and mere, and sounding shore + Eden found voice, sad plaining, ‘Never-more!’ + Long time he pondered on blue peaks remote + When slow, as stranded ships that listless float, + Moved by the sunset clouds. Or the white rack + Swept o’er the garden walls. + “‘Would I their track + Might take,’ he said, ‘Lilith, so long you stay. + Whom my soul follows sorrowing—alway.’ + Thus ever mourned he, comfortless; that so + In after days the Master, in the glow + Of morning-tide, the mother of the race + Gave for his solacement. + “Oh, fair the face + Young Eve bent o’er his sleep. Ere down the glade + The startled fawn leaps swift, her glance dismayed + Questions the hunter, mute. Such eyes—so brown, + So soft, so winning, shy—that looked adown + When Adam waked. Like vagrant tendrils, tossed + Dark hair about her brows. And quaintly crossed + Her hands upon her breast. Less red the dart + That deepest cleaves the folded rose’s heart, + Than her round cheeks. Not hers the regal air + Of Lilith lost, the white arms, lissom, bare, + The slender throat; the elbows dimpled deep, whereto + Might scarcely reach Eve’s head. + “Yet soft, as through + Some pleasant dream, the summer’s spicy air + Stirs odorous ’mong seaward gardens fair, + In southland hid; so, gently, Eve straightway + To Adam’s life unbidden came, to stay + Forever there. Sure entrance then made she + Into that heart untenanted by thee. + “So, to some olden house, from whose shut doors + One went erewhile, another comes. Its floors + All empty sees. The lowly threshold worn, + The moss-grown roof, the casements left forlorn. + Amid the shadows round about him stands, + Missing the footsteps passed to other lands, + And whispers tenderly, ‘Since here no more + The owner bides, what harm if on the floor + I pass? Good chance it were the clambering vine + About the porch with fingers deft to twine— + To draw the curtains, ope the door. For who + May know how soon these paths untended, through, + He comes again, with weary, way-worn feet, + Who made aforetime, other days so sweet. + Wherefore, I enter now. For whose dear sake + These vacant rooms, white, fragrant, clean, I make. + And when, world-wearied, he returns, we twain + Perchance together bide. Nor part again.’ + So Eve found refuge. Tender love, the spell + Whereby she ruled. Peaceful the pair did dwell. + Fast fled the happy years, till softly laid + In her glad arms the babe—a winsome maid.” + He ended there. Between them silence deep + Fell, as they journeyed. And the furthest steep + They crossed, that o’er their shadow-world rose high. + Then saw they level plains, their home, anigh. + And now, seeking her pleasance once again, + They came to their own land. But all in vain + His care. Silent she was, and oft did grieve, + Till Eblis wrathful cried: “Because this Eve + Adam holds dear, art mourning? Still dost yearn + To mate his sordid soul? Or wouldst thou turn + From summer land to Eden walls? + “The man + Belike, ne’er loved thee. So is it young Eve can + His pulses sway. Is she not passing fair? + Her fancies wild, it is her daily care + To bend beneath his ever fickle will. + Red-lipped and soft, she deftly rules him still, + Though he wist not. Yet sweeter Lilith’s frown + Than archest smile she wears. Great Soul! The crown + Thou bearest of fadeless life. For fleeting dreams + In Paradise, beside the winding streams, + Wilt thou resign such boon? Thou art, in sooth, + Of mold too firm for Adam’s love. In truth + A prince—though fallen—consorts best with thee + Say which were wise, with Eden’s lord to be, + Or, shining high, the purer soul, the star + That fadeless burns, and Eblis lights afar? + Were it not grand through endless spaces hurled + With me to drive, above a shrinking world + Our chariot, wide? + “For I foresee when dawn + Dark days upon our foes, and hope is gone. + Wherefore, my Lilith, now, as seems thee good, + Make choice.” Thereat she, turning where she stood, + With kisses hung about his neck, and smiled, + Crying, “Thine, Eblis, thine!” So were they reconciled. + + + + + BOOK V. + + + And Lilith oft to Paradise returned, + For fierce within her, bitter hatred burned, + And better, dearer, seemed revenge than aught + She else desired. The coppice oft she sought, + Much hoping direful evil might be wrought + Upon the love that bloomed in Eden. + Wide + Oft strayed fair Eve; the little maid, beside, + Plucking the lotus; or by sedgy moats, + From ribbed papyrus broad, frail fairy boats + Deft fashioning. Or Adam, watching, smiled, + With flowery wreaths engarlanding the child. + And laughed the pair, intent on pleasant toil, + When blithe the child upheaped her fruity spoil— + Great globes of red and gold. Or roguish face + O’er feathery broods, or in the further space + To count the small blue eggs, she sportive bent; + And far her restless feet swift glancing went. + It chanced one day she watched the careless flight + Of vagrant butterflies, that circled light + Uncertain, high, above a copse rose-wreathed; + Then soft down-dropping, gaudy wings they sheathed + Beside a darkling pool. The copse anear + With yellow buds was strewn. And softly here + She crept, deeming her little half-shut hand + Might snare the fairest of that gleaming band. + Yet ere she touched it, wide its wings outspread + In flight. + + And still she, swift pursuing, sped + Among the groves, till wearied, slept the maid + Deep in the mid-day shadows, lowly laid. + + Without, stooped Lilith. And with fingers swift, + Among the leaves she oped a small green rift, + That she might see the child. The hedge was wet + With starry blooms. Whereto her hand she set + When she awaked, seeing each dainty frond + Of fragrant ferns, dusk mirrored in the pond. + The child came near the copse, much wondering: + From glossy stems the smooth leaves sundering. + And stooping o’er the rift, she saw there, low + Against the hedge, a face like drifted snow, + And soft eyes, blue as violets show + Above the brooks; and hair that downward rolled + Upon the ground in glittering strands of gold. + Mute stood the maid, naught fearing, but amazed. + Then nearer drew, and lingering, she gazed + In those blue orbs. And smiling as she knelt, + The stranger quickly loosed her shining belt + Of gems. Flawless each stone whose pallid gleam + Lit silent nooks, or slept by far-off stream + Unheeded—pale pearls with shimmering light, + From distant oceans plucked, blue sapphires bright, + And diamonds rosy-cold, and burning red + The rubies fine, and yellow topaz shed + Its sultry glow, jasper, dull onyx white, + Sardonyx, rare chalcèdon, streaked with light. + Against her white breast that bright zone she laid, + Then stretched it, flashing forth, toward the maid, + And clasped it round her throat. + A luring strain + She sung, sweet as the pause of summer rain. + So soft, so pure her voice, the child it drew + Still nearer that green rift; and low there-through + She laughing stroked the down-bent golden head + With her soft baby hands. And parting, spread + The silken hair about her little face, + And kissed the temptress through the green-leaved space. + Whereat fell Lilith snatched the babe and fled, + Crying, as swift from Eden’s bounds she sped, + And like a fallen star shone on her breast + The child, “At last! at last! thy peaceful rest + Ere long will cease. O helpless mourn, frail Eve, + Uncomforted. O hapless mother, grieve, + Since Lilith far from thee thy babe doth bear! + She leaves thy loving arms, thy tender care. + Nor canst thou follow anywhere my flight, + When far we go athwart the falling night. + Ah, little babe, close-meshed in yellow hair + Thou liest pale! Fear not, thou art so fair, + Much comfort lives in thee.” + So ended she, + And onward, hostile lands among, passed fleet + Blue solitudes afar, till paused her feet, + Where highest ’mong hoar climbing peaks, uprose + A mountain crest. + It was the third day’s close. + In those untrodden ways there was no sound, + No sight of living thing, the barren heights around. + No hum of insect life, no whirring wing of bird. + Bare rocks alone, all fissured, blotched and blurred + As with red stain of battle-fields unseen. + Far, far below, still vales were shining green. + And leaping downward swift, a mountain stream + Crept soft to sleep, where meadow grasses dream. + Wan, wayworn, there, the babe upon her knee, + Lilith sat down. “O Eve,” she said, “on me + The child smiles sweet! Fondle her silken hair + If now thou canst, or clasp her small hands fair. + Thou hast my Paradise. Lo, thine I bear + Afar from thee. See, then! Its transient woe + Thy babe e’en now forgets; and sweet and low + It babbles on my knee. In sooth, not long + Endure her griefs, and through my crooning song + She kisses me, recalling not the place + Whence she has come. Nay, nor her mother’s face.” + Long time stayed Lilith in that land. More calm + Each day she grew, for soft, like healing balm, + The child’s pure love fell on her sin-sick soul. + Now oft among the crags, fleet-footed, stole + The maid, or lightly crossed the fertile plain. + And blithesome sang among the growing grain + That brake in billowy waves about her feet. + But when the wheat full ripened was, and sweet, + She plucked and ate. Thereat a shadowy pain, + A sense of sorrow, stirred that childish brain, + She wist not why. For it did surely seem + Before her waking thought, with pallid gleam + Of other days, dim pictures passed; of wood + And stream, beyond these mountain rims. And stood, + It seemed, midway a garden wide, a tree that bright + Like silver gleamed, and broad boughs light + Uplifted. Like ripened wheat the fruit thereon, + When low the westering sun upon it shone. + Then slow the maid did turn, and silent stand + At Lilith’s side. And o’er that mountain land, + Down-looking, mused. Or lifted pensive eyes, + And gaze that questioned if in any wise + She might perceive the land she longing sought; + But of its stream, or garden, saw she naught. + Thereat Lilith with white lips drew more near, + And clasped in her lithe arms the child so dear. + And once again fled swift, a shadowy shape, + Across green fields. And heard, through silence, break + A voice she could not hush, that loudly wailed, + “My babe! Give me my babe!” + And Lilith paled, + And listening, heard, borne ever on the wind, + The tread of feet fast following behind. + Then westward turned, where once among new ways + With Eblis she had trod in other days, + When far they wandered. Thitherward she bent + Her timid steps, the babe upon her breast, + Until with travel worn her noontide rest + She took. And now a land of alien blooms + About them lay, outwafting strange perfumes. + And quaint defiles, that sloped behind a bay; + And level fields; and curly vines that lay + Thick clustered o’er with unripe fruit; and bent + Above them fragrant limes and spicy scent + Of citron and of myrtle all the place + Made sweet, and ’mid the trees, an open space + They saw. + Not far away a broad lagoon + Burned like a topaz ’neath a crescent moon, + For day was parting. Even-tide apace + Drew on, and chill the night dews filled the place. + Upon the waters dusky shadows clung, + And ashen-gray the broad leaves drooping hung; + Low ’mong the marish buds lay one that made + Against the sudden dusk a duskier shade— + Despairing arms upflinging to the sky, + Smiting the silence with unheeded cry— + “O mother, childless! Wife—of all bereft! + Alas, my babe, not even thou art left + To comfort me, in these last hopeless days, + Shut out from Paradise. Through unknown ways + I sought thee sorrowing. Oh, once again, + My Adam, come! Is not this gnawing pain + Of punishment enow, that thou unkind + Art grown? Ah, never more shall I thee find? + Alas, I ever was but weak. Alone + I cannot live. Come but again, mine own. + No longer leave me mourning, desolate. + In tears I call thee. Oh, in tears I wait + Thy sweet, forgiving kiss!” + Ended she so + Her plaint. And ’mong the glistening leaves hid low, + Lilith yet fiercer clasped the child + When that lorn mother, tear-stained, weeping, wild, + Poured forth her woe. + As one that wakes to life + From peaceful dreams, leaps quick amid the strife + Of morning hours, so now the maid to pass + From Lilith’s arms strove hard. And loosed her clasp, + And turned her shadowed face with plaintive moan + And fond beseeching eyes, where lay her mother lone. + But Lilith hardening, seized the child again, + And from her ears shut out the mother’s pain + With wilful hands. + So passed she quick away. + Across the dusky path, low fallen, lay + Pale Eve, till clear she saw the dawn’s pure ray, + And as she looked, the voice of one she heard + Anigh. Her heart to sudden joy was stirred. + “Rise up, mine own,” he said, “no more apart + We walk.” Then she arose, and cried, “Dear heart, + Close hold me. So! Methinks I dreamed we were + Parted long time.” + So went, the exiled pair + From home thrust out, together—everywhere. + And oft they journeyed on with sufferings spent + To distant lands. And oft with labor bent + Recalled the olden home, with brimming eyes, + Hemmed in by mountains blue—lost Paradise. + + Meanwhile, to her own realm Lilith long since + Was come, glad greeting Eblis. “O my prince, + I have most bravely done. Our foes full sore + Are smitten now. My guerdon o’er and o’er + Thou wilt bestow, I ween, in kisses warm + As my own southland’s breath. For I great harm + Have wrought that hated pair. With feeble moan + Lies Eve in a far land, thrust out. Alone, + Deserted. And whence angered Adam flies + I know not. Nay, nor what new world his eyes + Behold. Nor even if he live. + “But see! + Sleeps on my breast the babe—Eve’s babe. And she + Shall know no more its tender, sweet caress, + Soft medicining woe. The wilderness + Uncheered by love, is hers.” + And by the sea, + Peaceful abode, long time content, the three, + Save that the child unmurmuring drooped. + Then oft above her Lilith, singing, stooped, + Striving to wake the baby smiles again + About her wee, warm mouth. Vain wiles! And vain + Her loving skill. All still she lay, and pale. + As one at sea pines for a lonely vale + Besprent with cuckoo flowers; the faint wild breath + Of cradled buds, among the cloven elms, and saith, + ‘I shall not see that place beyond the seas, + Nor any more pluck red anemones + In windless nooks.’ + So seemed the child, and frail + As one that weeps above dead joys. Then pale + Grew Lilith as those wasting lips she pressed + And kissed the filmy eyes, and kissing, blessed + The child. + But Eblis touched the hand so worn, + The faded, wasted face. “Happy, thou mother lorn, + Unseeing her,” he said. “This fragile thing + To-day lies on thy breast. To-morrow’s wing + Hath brushed it from thy sight.” Low Lilith sighed: + “My Eblis, is this death?” And louder cried, + “But thou art wise, and sure some hidden way + From this sore hap canst find. O Eblis, say, + Hast thou no spell whereby the child may live? + O love, my realm thy recompense I give, + If she be healed.” + “Nay; not Archangel’s craft + Stays fleeting life, or turns Death’s nimble shaft,” + He said. “Yet if,” she mused, “I laid again + The child in young Eve’s arms, like summer rain, + The mother’s love may yet restore again + This shriveled life. And yet, must I resign + The babe? Alas, my little one! Nay, mine + No more!” Weeping she ceased. + But after, bore + The child far northward; the exiled pair o’er + Many lands long seeking. Till from a crest + Of barren hills Lilith looked down. At rest, + The twain she saw, for it was eventide. + And low they spoke of hidden snares beside + Their unknown path, since unaware fared they + Into this hostile spot. The dim wolds lay + All bare beneath chill stars. And far away + Were belts of pine, and dingy ocean shore, + Like wrinkled lip. Cold was the land, and hoar + With wintry rime. Near by, its leafless boughs + A thorn bush bent, with withered berries red. + At sight thereof Adam, rejoicing, said, + “My Eve, bide here. From yonder friendly tree + The ripe fruit I will pluck and bring to thee.” + “Oh, leave me not! This solitude I fear; + The land about is chill,” she said, “and drear + It seems to me.” But Adam answered, “Nay, + Sore famished art thou, and not far away + It is—nor long I stay.” + So parted he. + Not long alone was Eve. Upstarted she + Dismayed. A woman, most exceeding fair, + Beside her stood, with coils of yellow hair, + And blue eyes, calm as sleep among the hills’ + Dim lakes. Eve, frighted, shrank. As mountain rills, + Sweet fell the stranger’s words. “My sister, one + Is here that glad salutes thee. And since done + Is now my quest, and here my journey ends, + I bring a goodly gift. For elsewhere wends + My pathway, Eve. + “Beside a coppice green, + Brighter than gold, purer than silver sheen, + In a fair garden, once a jewel shone. + With it, compared in all the world, no stone. + And low the Master set it shining clear + Against the hedge, saying, ‘When she draws near + She will perceive on whom I do bestow + This moteless gem, that fellow doth not know.’ + “Now I without the copse that day was hid. + Soft shone the jewel, as the moon amid + The blue. And in the garden I saw thee, + Where in the midst stood a fair wheaten tree + As emerald green. Its ears, as rubies red, + Fragrant as breath of musk, its odors spread. + And white its shining grains as rifted snow. + I looked again. And in thy fair hand, lo, + Full ripe bright gleamed the yellow wheaten grain. + Thou saidst, ‘Though I did eat, I live. No pain + Hath marred this pleasant feast.’ + “Then I the more + Desired thy gem. ‘All things most goodly pour + On Eve their gifts. But I am famished lone,’ + I said. And still against the hedge the stone + Rayed like a frozen tear the pure Night shed— + The which with trembling hand I seized, and fled + Afar. + “But now upon my soul weighs sore + A dream. A voice called loud, ‘Straightway restore + To Eve that which is hers; lest I, that bright + Set it against the hedge, will quench its light. + Yea, I will crumble it and quickly smite + It into dust e’en from thy hand.’ Mine eyes + I careless closed. But yesternight ‘Arise!’ + The stern voice cried. ‘Stay not at all. For lo, + I wait not. Lest I scourge thee sorely, go!’ + Ah, Eve, though long upon my heart I wore + This jewel rare, behold, I now restore + Thine own!” + Then Eve cried loud, “Ere my heart break, + Give me my babe! Where is she, for whose sake + I sorrowed all these years—the little maid?” + She said, through tender sobs. + And Lilith laid + Apart upon her breast her garment, dyed + In blended hues. And stooping at Eve’s side, + Gave back the child. + As one that ending quest + Most perilous, safe harbor sees—at rest + Among green hills—and enters glad therein, + So Lilith was. + So passed she once again + Into her land. + But Eve, like rain + Long pent, upon the child poured swiftly down + Sweet kisses. And again, twixt laugh and frown + Divided, smoothed the baby face, and through + Her fingers soft the silken hair she drew, + And kissed again. + And with a vague surprise + Recalled the stranger’s smile, the mournful eyes, + Much marveling whence she fared. And said, “As pale + She seemed as bramble-blooms in Eden’s vale.” + + When homeward Adam came, the child she set + Upon his knee, saying, “Erewhile I met + An angel. So to me she seemed, as there + She stood. So tall, so yellow-haired, so fair; + And lo, she brought again the babe.” + Therewith + She ended low. “Doubtless an angel, love, sith + So you deem her,” he replied. And mused on all + Eve told. + And watching, saw a shadow fall + Upon the child. And later, did recall + Those words, sad pondering “so fair, so tall.” + But nothing uttered. + + In that land long time + They lingered. And the child slow faded, till + One day Eve frighted cried, “See, Adam, still + She lies! Ah, little one, unseal those eyes! + Rouse but awhile, ere waning daylight flies!” + For she discerned not yet its doom, nor knew + The hour was near. + But Adam, parting, drew + Beneath the thorn, lest he might see the child. + And all the lone hours through Eve, babbling, smiled + Adown. And blew her warm breath o’er the cheeks + So wan. “The night grows cold,” she said. “Sleep creeps + Dull on my babe. The night grows cold and chill,” + She said. + Nor dreamed aneath those lids closed still, + The death film hung. + A wind uprose, and swept + Among the dry leaves heaped, where lowly slept + The child. Cold grew the night and colder, till + Against the east the dawn glowed daffodil, + Above dun wolds white with new-fallen snow. + So rose the day and widened into morning glow + With rosy tints o’erstreaked, and faintly blurred + With flecks of cloud. + Still lay the child, nor stirred. + Dumb Eve looked down, nor knew Death’s pallid masque, + And strove to wake the maid. In vain. Her task + Was done. And as she gazed, a gentle grasp + Soft loosed the dead from that cold mother’s clasp, + And Lilith laid the babe in its chill bed— + Straightened the limbs, and kissed the little head. + And o’er the sleeper, kneeling, she did lean. + Forth from her breast she drew, close folded, green, + A sheath of leaves, bright shining, lustrous—wet + With tears—that in those waxen hands she set. + Then those shut leaves oped slow. And low and frail + Bloomed ’mid the tintless snows a snow-drop pale. + Soft Lilith said, “For this pale sleeper’s sake, + O Eve, one kiss bestow. E’en thou canst take + Pity on me. For thee new, happy days await, + But I—I am forever desolate. + For thee fresh love will bloom above this mould; + For thee, in coming years, pure lips unfold; + But I—no more, no more, shall feel the warm + Breath ’gainst my breast. Nay, nor the baby arm + Soft clasping me. Nor see the feet that pass + Like falling music, through the waving grass. + Therefore, one pardoning kiss give e’er I go + To my own land, beyond this realm of snow.” + And Eve, uprising, took the hand she gave, + And weeping, kissed; and parted by that grave. + + Stood Adam, after-time, by that small mound. + Low at their feet a sheaf of leaves Eve found, + Wherein white flowers shone. “Oh, like,” she said, + “To this was one abloom within the bed + Where lies the child. And fair, O, passing fair, + She was, and tall, with yellow gleaming hair, + And cheeks soft flushed as fresh pomegranate bells; + And dewy eyes, like violets in the dells, + Who came. So, silent passed that stranger fair + Who loved our babe. And e’er I well was ware, + She vanished.” + Otherwhiles, “Of alien race + She was,” Eve said. “A princess, with a face + Surpassing fair, who trod the pathway bright + Among the mists, beyond the rim of night + To her own land.” + And oft in after-time, + When Cain had lain in her young arms, and chime + Of voices round her came, and clasp of hands, + And thick with baby faces bloomed the lands, + Eve silent sat, remembering that one child + Among the snowdrops, in a Northern wild. + And Lilith dwelt again in her own land; + With Eblis still strayed far. And hand in hand + They talked; the while her phantom brood in glee + Laughed overhead. Then looking on the sea, + Low voiced, she sang. So sweet the idle song, + She said, “From Paradise, forgotten long, + It comes. An elfin echo that doth rise + Upward from summer seas to bending skies. + In coming days, from any earthly shore + It shall not fail. And sweet forever more + Shall make my memory. That witching strain + Pale Lilith’s love shall lightly breathe again. + And Lilith’s bitter loss and olden pain + O’er every cradle wake that sweet refrain. + My memory still shall bloom. It cannot die + While rings Earth’s cradle-song—sweet lullaby.” + + Slow passed dim cycles by, and in the earth + Strange peoples swarmed; new nations sprang to birth. + Then first ’mong tented tribes men shuddering spake + Dread tales of one that moved, an unseen shape, + ’Mong chilling mists and snow. A spirit swift, + That dwelt in lands beyond day’s purple rift. + Phantom of presage ill to babes unborn, + Whose fast-sealed eyes ope not to earthly morn. + “We heard,” they cried, “the Elf-babes shrilly scream, + And loud the Siren’s song, when lightnings gleam.” + Then they that by low beds all night did wake, + Prayed for the day, and feared to see it break. + + When o’er the icy fjords cold rise white peaks, + And fierce wild storms blot out the frozen creeks, + The Finnish mother to her breast more near + Draws her dear babe—clasps it in her wild fear + Still closer to her heart. And o’er and o’er + Through her weird song fall echoes from that lore + That lived when Time was young, e’er yet the rime + Of years lay on his brow. In that far prime + Nature and man, couched ’neath God’s earliest sky, + Heard clear-voiced spheres chant Earth’s first lullaby. + Now, in the blast loud sings the Finn, and long, + Nor knows that faint through her wild cradle-song + Yet sweetly thrills the vanished Elf-babes’ cry, + Nor dreams, as low she croons her lullaby, + Still breathes through that sweet, lingering refrain + Lilith the childless—and to life again, + To love, she wakes. + The soft strain clearer rings + As through the gathering storm that mother sings: + + Pile the strong fagot, + Pale Lilith comes! + Wild through the murky air goblin voices shout. + Hark! Hearest thou not their lusty rout? + Lilith comes! + Listen, my babe! + + See how the dusk pines + Tremble and crouch; + Over wide wastes borne, white are the snow-wreaths blown, + And loud the drear icy fjords shudder and moan; + Lilith comes! + Listen, my babe! + + Ah! Hear the wild din, + Fierce o’er the linn, + The sea-gull, affrighted, soars seaward away, + And dark on the shores falls the wind-driven spray; + Lilith comes! + Listen, my babe! + + The shuddering ice + Shivers. It cracks! + Like a wild beast in pain, it cries to the wrack + Of the storm-cloud overhead. The sea answers back— + Dread Lilith comes! + Listen, my babe! + + Near draws the wraith fair, + Dull gleams her hair. + Ah, strong one, so cruel—fierce breath of the North— + The torches of heaven are lighting thee forth! + Fell Lilith comes! + Listen, my babe! + + Cold spirit of Snow, + Ah, I fear thee! + The sports of my hunter, the white fox, the bear, + The spoils of our rivers are thine. Ah, then spare, + Dread Lilith, spare + The babe at my breast! + + Mercy, weird Lilith! + Even sleeping, + My babe lies so chill. See, the reindeer I give! + Ah, lift thy dark wings, that my darling may live! + Pale Lilith comes! + Listen, my babe! + + Once, in the Northland, + Pale crocus grew + By half-wakened stream. It lay shriveled and low + Ere the spring-time had come, in soft shroud of snow. + Sad Lilith comes! + Listen, my babe! + + Foul Vampire, drain not + From my loved one + The life-current red. O Demon, art breaking + My heart while I plead? Ah, babe! Art thou waking? + Lilith, I live! + Closer my babe! + + Far o’er the dun wold, + Baby, behold + ’Mid the mist and the snow, fast, fast, and more fast— + In the teeth of the blast—flies Lilith at last. + Pale Lilith flies! + Nearer, my babe! + + By Ganges still the Indian mother weaves + Above her babe her mat of plantain leaves, + And laughing, plaits. Or pausing, sweet and low + Her voice blends with the river’s drowsy flow; + The while she fitful sings that old, old strain, + Forgetting that the love, the deathless pain + Of wandering Lilith lives and throbs again + When falls the tricksy Elf-babes’ mocking cry + Faintly across her crooning lullaby— + + Ah, happy babe, that here may sleep + Where the blue river winds along, + And sweet the trysting bulbuls keep + The night o’er-brimmed with pulsing song. + + Not so, mine own, as legends tell, + In lands remote, beyond the day, + The soulless babes of Lilith dwell, + Or vanish ’mong the cold mists gray. + + Or oft in elfin glee they ride + O’er burning deserts blown adrift, + Or singing idly, idly glide + Afar beyond Night’s purple rift. + + But thou, my babe, for thee shall grow + The lilies, nodding by the stream; + For thee, the poppy’s sleepy glow; + For thee, the jonquil’s pallid gleam. + + My baby, sleep! Against the sky + The pippul lifts its trembling crest. + O baby, hush each wailing cry, + Close to the holy river’s breast. + + Not here shall come that pale wraith fair, + Who, wandering once in Northern lands, + Bore o’er long reaches sere and bare + The death-flower white, for baby hands. + + Fear not, mine own, the Elf-babes shrill, + Nor Lilith tall, with brow of snow. + They may not haunt thy slumbers still + Where Ganges’ sacred waters flow. + + Where coral reefs gnaw with white cruel teeth + The yellow surf, and the torn billows seethe— + When shines the Southern Cross o’er placid isles, + The Afric mother sits, and singing, smiles, + Unheeding that a dead world’s hidden pain + Beats wildly rhythmic through her pure refrain, + And lingers softly still an echoed sigh + Low in Earth’s cradle-song—sweet lullaby. + A warning song of doom—a song of woe, + Of terror wild, she sings, down bending low, + The while bright gleams the Starry Cross above + Yet tells to her no tale of tender love + Of Him who lifteth after-time a cross + That healeth all the wide world’s sin and loss. + + Ah, linger no longer ’mong blooms of the mangoes, + Nor pluck the bright shells by the low sighing sea, + Swift, swift, through the groves of the palms and acacias + Comes Lilith, the childless one, seeking for thee. + She will bind thee so fast in her yellow-gold hair— + Ah, hasten, my children, of Lilith beware! + + Cold, cold are her cheeks as the spray of the wild sea, + Red, red are her lips as the pomegranate’s bloom; + Cold, cold are the kisses the phantom will give thee, + Ah, cruel her kisses, that smell of the tomb. + Hist, hist! ’tis the sorceress with yellow-gold hair— + Oh! lullaby, baby—of Lilith beware. + + She flies to the jungle, with false tales beguiling, + Ah, hear’st thou her elfin babes scream overhead! + Close, close in her strong arms she bears my babe, smiling; + She hath sucked the soft bloom from the lips of my dead. + Now far speeds the vampire, with yellow-gold hair— + Oh! lullaby, baby—of Lilith beware! + + Art frighted, my baby? Nay, then, thy mother + Low singing enfolds thee all safe from the snare; + Afar flit the Elf-babes ’mid gray, misty shadows, + Afar flees the temptress with yellow-gold hair. + Ah, heed not her songs in the still slumbrous air— + Oh! lullaby, baby—of Lilith beware! + + When hawthorn-trees sift thick their rifted snow, + The English mother o’er her babe sings low; + Where red the cross burns on the ivied fane, + Unwitting, pagan Lilith lives again— + And softer sings, nor feels the wailing pain + Still faintly surging through that low refrain; + Nor dreams she hears Love’s early cradle cry + Slow echoing through Earth’s song—sweet lullaby— + And in the shadow of that cross, her strain + Breathes sweetly; love, and hope, and ended pain. + Softlier while that small arm closely clings + About her heart, that mother peaceful sings: + + O babe, my babe, the light doth fade! + My baby, sleep, while I do keep + Close watch, where thou art lowly laid. + Sweet dreams shall steep thy slumber deep. + Ah, little feet, be still at last— + Rest all the night, for day is past; + One watches thee from yon blue sky, + One watching here sings lullaby, + Lullaby; + Sings lullaby. + + Here on his bed the sunny head + Lies still; and soft the brown eyes close; + Sweet steals the breath, ’twixt lips as red, + As dewy fresh, as new-born rose. + O little lips, be hushed at last; + Fear naught, sweetheart, though day be past. + One looks adown from yon far sky, + One close beside, sings lullaby, + Lullaby; + Sings lullaby. + + + + +[Illustration] + +_“Ideal American magazines!”_ + +=It is a fact= acknowledged by the English press that American +magazines, by enterprise, able editorship, and liberal expenditure for +the finest of current art and literature, have won a rank far in advance +of European magazines. + +=It is also a fact= that for young people + +WIDE AWAKE + +_Stands foremost_ } _In pleasure giving!_ + } _In practical helping!_ + +Each year’s numbers contain a _thousand quarto pages_, covering the +widest range of literature of interest and value to young people, from +such authors as John G. 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POLLY COLOGNE. + +Each volume illustrated. 16mo. $1.00. + + +DOMESTIC PROBLEMS. + +WORK AND CULTURE IN THE HOUSEHOLD, AND THE SCHOOLMASTER’S TRUNK. + +Two volumes in one. Illustrated. 16mo. $1.00. + + +HOLIDAY BOOKS. + +CHRISTMAS MORNING. + +180 Illustrations. 12mo. Cloth, $1.50 Bds., $1.25. + + +KING GRIMALKUM AND PUSSYANITA; OR, THE CATS’ ARABIAN NIGHTS. + +Illustrated. Quarto. Cover in colors. $1.25. + + +⁂ _For sale by all Booksellers. Sent, postpaid, on receipt of price, by_ + +D. LOTHROP & CO., 32 FRANKLIN STREET, BOSTON. + + + + + THE HOMESPUN SERIES. + + BY + + SOPHIA HOMESPUN. + + +RUTHIE SHAW: Or, _The Good Girl._ 16mo. Cloth. Illustrated. Price, +$1.00. + +MUCH FRUIT. 16mo. Cloth. Illustrated. Price $1.00. + +BLUE EYED JIMMY: _Or, The Good Boy._ 16mo. Cloth. Illustrated. Price, +$1.00. + +JOHNNY JONES: _Or, The Bad Boy._ 16mo. Cloth. Illustrated. Price, $1.00. + +NATTIE NESMITH: _Or, The Bad Girl._ 16mo. Cloth. Illustrated. Price, +$1.00. + + +Either or all of the above sent by mail, post-paid, on receipt of price. + +D. LOTHROP AND COMPANY. + +30 & 32 _Franklin St., Boston_ + +May be obtained of Booksellers. + + + + + WRITINGS OF ELLA FARMAN, + + EDITOR OF WIDE AWAKE. + + +Ella Farman teaches art no less than letters; and what is more than both +stimulates a pure imagination and wholesome thinking. In her work there +is vastly more culture than in the whole schooling supplied to the +average child in the average school.—_New York Tribune._ + +The authoress, Ella Farman, whose skilful editorial management of “Wide +Awake” all acquainted with that publication must admire, shows that her +great capacity to amuse and instruct our growing youth can take a wider +range. Her books are exceedingly interesting, and of that fine moral +tone which so many books of the present day lack.—_The Times, Canada._ + + +A LITTLE WOMAN. Illustrated. 12mo. $1.00 +A GIRL’S MONEY. Illustrated. 12mo. 1.00 +GRANDMA CROSBY’S HOUSEHOLD. Illustrated. 12mo. 1.00 +GOOD-FOR-NOTHING POLLY. Illustrated. 12mo. 1.00 +HOW TWO GIRLS TRIED FARMING. Illustrated. 12mo. 1.00 +COOKING CLUB OF TU-WHIT HOLLOW. Illustrated. 12mo. 1.25 +MRS. HURD’S NIECE. Illustrated. 12mo. 1.50 +ANNA MAYLIE. Illustrated. 12mo. 1.50 +A WHITE HAND. Illustrated. 12mo. 1.50 + + +The above set of nine volumes will be furnished at $10.00. + +⁂ _For sale by all Booksellers. Sent by mail, post-paid, by_ + +D. LOTHROP & CO., FRANKLIN ST., BOSTON + + + + + BOOKS BY E. A. RAND. + + SCHOOL AND CAMP SERIES. + + +_Each volume, 12mo, price_, $1.25. + +This series gives the experience of “Big Brother” Dave Allen at the +Academy; Roy Allen in his dory, the _Sunbeam_, in Boston Harbor; Ruth +Atherton as teacher, and Beth Allen as pupil at the country schoolhouse, +Little Brown-Top. + +PUSHING AHEAD; OR, BIG BROTHER DAVE. +ROY’S DORY AT THE SEA-SHORE. +LITTLE BROWN-TOP, AND THE PEOPLE UNDER IT. + + +BARK CABIN SERIES. + +_Each volume, 12mo, price_, $1.00. + +Here we find the mountain camp-experience of the merry family, the +captain, his daughters, the vivacious Rob, and the irrepressible +servant-boy, Jule. + +BARK-CABIN ON MOUNT KEARSARGE. +THE TENT IN THE NOTCH. + + +AFTER THE FRESHET. + +12_mo, price_, $1.25. + +Arthur Manley whom a villain tries to ruin, is the hero of this book. + + + + + BOOKS + + SELECTED FROM + + D. Lothrop & Co.’s Catalogue. + + +John S. C. Abbott. + History of Christianity. 12mo, cloth, illust., $2.00. + +Nehemiah Adams. + At Eventide. 12mo, cloth, $1.25. + Agnes and the Little Key. 12mo, cloth, $1.00. + Bertha. 12mo, cloth, $1.00. + Broadcast. 12mo, cloth, $1.00. + Christ a Friend. 12mo, cloth, $1.00. + Communion Sabbath. 12mo, cloth, $1.25. + Catherine. 12mo, cloth, $1.25. + Cross in the Cell. 12mo, cloth, $1.00. + Endless Punishment. 12mo, cloth, $1.00. + Evenings with the Doctrines. 12mo, cloth, $1.00. + Friends of Christ, 12mo, cloth, $1.00. + Under the Mizzen-mast. 12mo, cloth, illust., $1.00. + +Lydia Maria Child. + Jamie and Jennie. 16mo, cloth, illust., $.75. + Boy’s Heaven. 16mo, cloth, illust., $.75. + Making Something. 16mo, cloth, illust., $.75. + Good Little Mittie. 16mo, cloth, illust., $.75. + The Christ Child. 16mo, cloth, illust., $.75. + +Col. Russell H. Conwell. + Bayard Taylor. 12mo, cloth, illust., $1.50. + +Lizzie W. Champney. + Entertainments. 12mo, cloth, illust., $1.00. + +Abby Morton Diaz. + Story Book for children. 12mo, cloth, illust., $1.00. + William Henry and his Friends. 12mo, illust., $1.00. + William Henry Letters. 12mo, cloth, illust., $1.00. + Polly Cologne. 12mo, cloth, illust., $1.00. + Lucy Maria. 12mo, cloth, illust., $1.00. + The Jimmyjohns. 12mo, cloth, illust., $1.00. + Domestic Problems. 12mo, cloth, illust., $1.00. + King Grimalkum. 4to, boards, illust., $1.25. + Christmas Morning. 12mo, illust., b’ds, $1.25; cloth, $1.50. + +Julia A. Eastman. + Kitty Kent. 12mo, cloth, illust., $1.50. + Young Rick. 12mo, cloth, illust., $1.50. + The Romneys of Ridgemont. 12mo, illust., $1.50. + Striking for the Right. 12mo, cloth, illust., $1.75. + School Days of Beulah Romney. Illust., $1.50. + Short Comings and Long Goings. 12mo, $1.25. + +Ella Farman. + Anna Maylie. 12mo, cloth, illust., $1.50. + A Little Woman. 12mo, cloth, illust., $1.00. + A White Hand. 12mo, cloth, illust., $1.50. + A Girl’s Money. 12mo, cloth, illust., $1.00. + Grandma Crosby’s Household. 12mo, cloth, il., $1.00. + Good-for-Nothing Polly. 12mo, cloth, illust., $1.00. + How two Girls tried Farming. 12mo, paper, $.50; cloth, $1.00. + The Cooking Club. 12mo, cloth, illust., $1.25. + Mrs. Hurd’s Niece. 12mo, cloth, illust., $1.50. + +A. A. Hopkins. + Waifs and their Authors. Plain, $2.00; gilt, $2.50. + John Bremm: His Prison Bars. 12mo, cloth, $1.25. + Sinner and Saint. 12mo, cloth, $1.25. + Our Sabbath Evening. 16mo, cloth, $1.25. + +E. E. Hale and Miss Susan Hale. + A Family Flight through France, Germany, Norway and Switzerland. + Octavo, cloth, illust., $2.50. + +Lothrop’s Library of Entertaining History. + Edited by ARTHUR GILMAN. + + India, by FANNIE ROPER FEUDGE. 12mo, cloth, illust., $1.50; + half Russia, $2.00. + Egypt, by MRS. CLARA ERSKINE CLEMENT. 12mo, cloth, illust., $1.50; + half Russia, $2.00. + Spain, by PROF. JAMES H. HARRISON. 12mo, cloth, illust., $1.50; + half Russia, $2.00. + Switzerland, by MISS H. D. S. MACKENZIE. 12mo, cloth, illust., $1.50; + half Russia, $2.00. + +George MacDonald. + Warlock o’ Glenwarlock. 12mo, cloth, illust., $1.75. + Seaboard Parish. 12mo, cloth, $1.75. + Thomas Wingfold, Curate. 12mo, illust., $1.75. + Annals of a Quiet Neighborhood. 12mo, $1.75. + Princess Rosamond. Quarto, board, illust., $.50. + Double Story. 12mo, cloth, illust., $1.00. + +George E. Merrill. + Story of the Manuscripts. 12mo, cloth, illust., $1.00. + Battles Lost and Won. 12mo, cloth, illust., $1.50. + +Elias Nason. + Henry Wilson. 12mo, cloth, illust., $1.50. + Originality. 16mo, cloth, $.50. + +Pansy. (Mrs. G. R. Alden.) + 12_mo_, _cloth_, $1.50 _Each._ + + A New Graft on the Family Tree. + Chautauqua Girls at Home (The). + Divers Women. + Echoing and Re-echoing. + Ester Ried. + Four Girls at Chautauqua. + From Different Standpoints. + Hall in the Grove. + Household Puzzles. + Julia Ried. + King’s Daughter. + Links in Rebecca’s Life. + Modern Prophets. + Pocket Measure (The). + Randolphs (The). + Ruth Erskine’s Crosses. + Sidney Martin’s Christmas. + Those Boys. + Tip Lewis and his Lamp. + Three People. + Wise and Otherwise. + + 12_mo_, _cloth_, $1.25 _Each._ + + Cunning Workmen. + Dr. Deane’s Way. + Grandpa’s Darlings. + Miss Priscilla Hunter and My Daughter Susan. + Mrs. Deane’s Way. + Pansy Scrap Book. (Former title, the Teachers’ Helper.) + What She Said, and What she Meant. + + + 12_mo_, _cloth_, $1.00 _Each._ + + Next Things. + Some Young Heroines. + Mrs. Harry Harper’s Awakening. + Five Friends. + + 12_mo_, _cloth_, 75 cts. _Each._ + + Bernie’s White Chicken. + Docia’s Journal. + Getting Ahead. + Helen Lester. + Jessie Wells. + Six Little Girls. + That Boy Bob. + Two Boys. + Mary Burton Abroad. + + Pansy’s Picture Book. 4to, board, $1.50; cloth, $2.00. + The Little Pansy Series. 10 volumes. Boards, $3.00; cloth, $4.00. + +Nora Perry. + Bessie’s Trials at Boarding-school. 12mo, $1.25. + +Austin Phelps. + The Still Hour. 16mo, cloth, $.60; gilt, $1.00. + Work of the Holy Spirit. 16mo, cloth, $1.25. + +Edward A. Rand. + Roy’s Dory. 12mo, cloth, illust., $1.25. + Pushing Ahead. 12mo, cloth, illust., $1.25. + After the Freshet. 12mo, cloth, $1.25. + All Aboard for Sunrise Lands. Illust., boards, $1.75; cloth, $2.25. + Tent in the Notch. 16mo, cloth, illust., $1.00. + Bark Cabin. 16mo, cloth, illust., $1.00. + +Margaret Sidney. + Five Little Peppers. 12mo, cloth, illust., $1.50. + Half Year at Bronckton. 12mo, cloth, $1.25. + Pettibone Name. 12mo, cloth, illust., $1.25. + So As by Fire. 12mo, cloth, illust., $1.25. + +Spare Minute Series. + Edited by E. E. BROWN. + Thoughts that Breathe. (Dean Stanley). $1.00. + Cheerful Words. (George MacDonald). $1.00. + The Might of Right. (W. E. Gladstone). $1.00. + True Manliness. (Thos. Hughes). 12mo, cloth, $1.00. + +Wide Awake Pleasure Book. + Edited by ELLA FARMAN. + Bound volumes A to M. Chromo cover, $1.50; full cloth, $2.00. + +T. D. Wolsey, D.D., LL. D. + Helpful Thoughts for Young Men. 12mo, $1.25. + +Kate Tannatt Woods. + Six Little Rebels. 12mo, cloth, illust., $1.50. + Doctor Dick. 12mo, cloth, illust., $1.50. + +C. M. Yonge. + 12mo, illustrated. + Young Folks’ History of Germany. $1.50. + Young Folks’ History of Greece. $1.50. + Young Folks’ History of Rome. $1.50. + Young Folks’ History of England. $1.50. + Young Folks’ History of France. $1.50. + Young Folks’ Bible History. $1.50. + Lances of Lynwood. 12mo, illust., $1.25. + Little Duke. 12mo, illust., $1.25. + Golden Deeds. 12mo, illust., $1.25. + Prince and Page. 12mo, illust., $1.25. + Little Lucy’s Wonderful Globe. Boards, $.75; cloth, $1.00. + + + + + MARGARET SIDNEY’S BOOKS. + + +Margaret Sidney may be safely set down as one of the best writers of +juvenile literature in the country.—_Boston Transcript._ + +Margaret Sidney’s books are happily described as “strong and pure from +cover to cover,... bright and piquant as the mountain breezes, or a dash +on pony back of a June morning.” The same writer speaks of her as “An +American authoress who will hold her own in the competitive good work +executed by the many bright writing women of to-day.” + +There are few better story writers than Margaret Sidney.—_Herald and +Presbyter._ + + +=Comments of the Secular and Religious Press=. + + +FIVE LITTLE PEPPERS AND HOW THEY GREW. + +A charming work.... The home scenes in which these little Peppers are +engaged are capitally described.... Will find prominent place among the +higher class of juvenile presentation books.—_Religious Herald._ + +One of the best told tales given to the children for some time ... The +perfect reproduction of child-life in its minutest phases, catches one’s +attention at once.—_Christian Advocate._ + +A good book to place in the hands of every boy or girl.—Chicago +_Inter-Ocean._ + + +SO AS BY FIRE. + +Will be hailed with eager delight, and found well worth +reading.—_Christian Observer._ + +An admirable Sunday-school book—_Arkansas Evangel._ + +We have followed with intense interest the story of David Folsom ... A +man poor, friendless, and addicted to drink;... the influence of little +Cricket;... the faithful care of aunt Phebe; all steps by which he +climbed to higher manhood.—_Woman at Work._ + + +THE PETTIBONE NAME. + +It is one of the finest pieces of American fiction that has been +published for some time.—_Newsdealers’ Bulletin_, New York. + +It ought to attract wide attention from the simplicity of its style, and +the vigor and originality of its treatment.—_Chicago Herald._ + +This is a capital story illustrating New England life.—_Inter-Ocean_, +Chicago. + +The characters of the story seem all to be studies from life.—_Boston +Post._ + +It is a New England tale, and its characters are true to the original type, +and show careful study and no little skill in portraiture.—_Christian +at Work_, New York. + +To be commended to readers for excellent delineations, sparkling style, +bright incident and genuine interest.—_The Watchman._ + +A capital story; bright with excellent sketches of character. Conveys +good moral and spiritual lessons ... In short, the book is in every way +well done.—_Illustrated Christian Weekly._ + + +HALF YEAR AT BRONCKTON. + +A live boy writes: “This is about the best book that ever was written or +ever can be.” + +“This bright and earnest story ought to go into the hands of every boy +who is old enough to be subjected to the temptations of school life.” + + +D. LOTHROP & CO., Publishers, Boston. + + + + + Books of the Celebrated Prize Series. + + +The preparation of this famous series was a happy inspiration. No books +for the young worthy of circulation have ever met so warm a welcome or +had a wider sale. The fact that each of them has passed the criticism of +a committee of clergymen of different denominations, men of high +scholarship, excellent literary taste, wide observation, and rare good +judgment, is a commendation in itself sufficient to secure for these +books the widest welcome. The fact that they are found, in every +instance, to be fully worthy of such high commendation, accounts for +their continued and increasing popularity. + + +=The $1000 prize Books.= A fresh edition in new style of binding. + +16 vols. 12mo. $24.50 + + +=The New $500 Prize Series.= A fresh edition in new style of binding. + +13 vols. 12mo. $16.75 + + +=The Original $500 Prize Series.= A fresh edition in new style of +binding. + +8 vols. 12mo. $12.00 + + +The Original $500 Prize Stories. + +Andy Luttrell. $1.50. +Shining Hours. $1.50. +Master and Pupil. $1.50. +May Bell. $1.50. +Sabrina Hackett. $1.50. +Aunt Matty. $1.50. +Light from the Cross. $1.50. +Contradictions. $1.50. + + +New $500 Prize Series. + +Short-Comings and Long-Goings. $1.25. +Lute Falconer. $1.50. +Hester’s Happy Summer. $1.25. +One Year of My Life. $1.25. +Building-Stones. $1.25. +Susy’s Spectacles. $1.25. +The Flower by the Prison. $1.25. +Trifles. $1.25. +The Judge’s Sons. $1.50. +Daisy Seymour. $1.25. +Olive Loring’s Mission. $1.25. +The Torch-Bearers. $1.25. +The Trapper’s Niece. $1.25. + + +The $1000 Prize Series. + +Striking for the Right. $1.75. +Walter Macdonald. $1.50. +The Wadsworth Boys. $1.50. +Silent Tom. $1.75. +The Blount Family. $1.50. +The Marble Preacher. $1.50. +Evening Rest. $1.50. +Margaret Worthington. $1.50. +Coming to the Light. $1.50. +Ralph’s Possession. $1.50. +Sunset Mountain. $1.50. +The Old Stone House. $1.50. +Golden Lines. $1.50. +Luck of Alden Farm. $1.50. +Glimpses Through. $1.50. +Grace Avery’s Influence. $1.50. + + +D. LOTHROP & CO., Publishers, Boston. + + + + + Lothrop’s Historical Library. + + EDITED BY ARTHUR GILMAN, M. A. + +AMERICAN PEOPLE. By Arthur Gilman, M. A. +INDIA. By Fannie Roper Feudge. +EGYPT. By Mrs. Clara Erskine Clement. +CHINA. By Robert K. Douglas. +SPAIN. By Prof. James Herbert Harrison. +SWITZERLAND. By Miss Harriet D. S. MacKenzie. +JAPAN, and its Leading Men. By Charles Lanman. +ALASKA: The Sitkan Archipelago. By Eliza Ruhamah Scidmore. + +Other volumes in preparation. + + +_Each volume_ 12_mo, Illustrated, cloth_, $1.50. + + +D. LOTHROP & CO., Publishers, + +Franklin and Hawley Streets, Boston. + + + + + Spare Minute Series. + + +THOUGHTS THAT BREATHE. + +From Dean Stanley. Introduction by Phillips Brooks. + + +CHEERFUL WORDS. + +From George MacDonald. Introduction by James T. Fields. + + +THE MIGHT OF RIGHT. + +From Rt. Hon. Wm. E. Gladstone. Introduction by John D. Long, LL. D. + + +TRUE MANLINESS. + +From Thomas Hughes. Introduction by Hon. James Russell Lowell. + + +LIVING TRUTHS. From Charles Kingsley. Introduction by W. D. Howells. + + +RIGHT TO THE POINT. + +From Theodore L. Cuyler, D. D. Introduction by Newman Hall, LL. B. + + +MANY COLORED THREADS. + +From Goethe. Introduction by Alexander McKenzie, D.D. + + +_Each volume_, 12_mo_, _cloth_, $1.00. + + +D. 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Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + http://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. diff --git a/24679-0.zip b/24679-0.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..88cbc8b --- /dev/null +++ b/24679-0.zip diff --git a/24679-8.txt b/24679-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..dfdb155 --- /dev/null +++ b/24679-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,3587 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Lilith, by Ada Langworthy Collier + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Lilith + The Legend of the First Woman + +Author: Ada Langworthy Collier + +Release Date: February 23, 2008 [EBook #24679] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LILITH *** + + + + +Produced by Irma Spehar, Markus Brenner and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This +file was produced from images generously made available +by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.) + + + + + + + LILITH + + + THE LEGEND OF THE FIRST WOMAN + + + BY + ADA LANGWORTHY COLLIER + + + BOSTON + D. LOTHROP AND COMPANY + FRANKLIN AND HAWLEY STREETS + + + + + COPYRIGHT, 1885. + D. LOTHROP & COMPANY. + + + + + PREFACE. + + + That Eve was Adam's second wife was a common Rabbinic + speculation. Certain commentators on Genesis adopted this view, + to account for the double account of the creation of woman, in + the sacred text, first in Genesis i. 27, and second in Genesis + xi. 18. And they say that Adam's first wife was named Lilith, + but she was expelled from Eden, and after her expulsion Eve was + created. Abraham Ecchelensis gives the following account of + Lilith and her doings: "There are some who do not regard + spectres as simple devils, but suppose them to be of a mixed + nature--part demoniacal, part human, and to have had their + origin from Lilith, Adam's first wife, by Eblis, prince of the + devils. This fable has been transmitted to the Arabs, from + Jewish sources, by some converts of Mohamet from Cabbalism and + Rabbinism, who have transferred all the Jewish fooleries to the + Arabs. They gave to Adam a wife formed of clay, along with Adam, + and called her Lilith, resting on the Scripture: 'Male and + female created He them.'"--_Legends of the Patriarchs and + Prophets.--Baring Gould._ + + Lilith or Lilis.--In the popular belief of the Hebrews, a female + spectre in the shape of a finely dressed woman, who lies in wait + for, and kills children. The old Rabbins turned Lilith into a + wife of Adam, on whom he begat demons and who still has power to + lie with men and kill children who are not protected by amulets + with which the Jews of a yet later period supply themselves as a + protection against her. Burton in his _Anatomy of Melancholy_ + tells us: "The Talmudists say that Adam had a wife called Lilis, + before he married Eve, and of her he begat nothing but devils." + A commentator on Skinner, quoted in the _Encyclopdia + Metropolitana_, says that the English word _Lullaby_ is derived + from Lilla, abi (begone, Lilith)! In the demonology of the + Middle Ages, Lilis was a famous witch, and is introduced as such + in the Walpurgis night scene in Goethe's "Faust."--_Webster's + Dictionary._ + + Our word _Lullaby_ is derived from two Arabic words which mean + "Beware of Lilith!"--_Anon._ + + Lilith, the supposed wife of Adam, after she married Eblis, is + said to have ruled over the city of Damascus.--_Legends of the + Patriarchs and Prophets.--Baring Gould._ + +From these few and meagre details of a fabled existence, which are all +that the author has been able to collect from any source whatever, has +sprung the following poem. The poet feels quite justified in dissenting +from the statements made in the preceding extracts, and has not drawn +Lilith as there represented--the bloodthirsty sovereign who ruled +Damascus, the betrayer of men, the murderer of children. The Lilith of +the poem is transferred to the more beautiful shadow-world. To that +country which is the abode of poets themselves. And about her is wrapt +the humanizing element still, and everywhere embodied in the sweetest +word the human tongue can utter--_lullaby_. Some critics declare that +true literary art inculcates a lofty lesson--has a high moral purpose. +If poets and their work must fall under this rigorous rule, then alas +"Lilith" will knock at the door of public opinion with a trembling hand +indeed. If the poem have either moral aim or lesson of any kind (which +observe, gentle critic, it is by no means asserted that it has), it is +simply to show that the strongest intellectual powers contain no +elements adverse to the highest and purest exercise of the affectional +nature. That, in its true condition, the noblest, the most cultured +intellect, and the loveliest, sublimest moral and emotional qualities, +together weave the web that clothes the world's great soul with +imperishable beauty. The possessor of highest intellectual capacity will +be also capable of highest developments in the latter qualities. The +woman of true intellect is the woman of truest affection. For the rest +let Lilith speak, whose life dropped unrecorded from the earliest world. +It is the poet's hope that the chords of the mother-heart universal will +respond to the song of the childless one. That in the survival of that +one word _lullaby_, may be revivified the pathetic figure of one whose +home, whose hope, whose Eden passed to another. Whose name living in the +terrors of superstitious peoples, now lingers in Earth's sweetest +utterance. That Pagan Lilith, re-baptized in the pure waters of maternal +love, shall breathe to heathen and Christian motherhood alike, that most +sacred love of Earth still throbbing through its tender lullaby. + + A. L. C. + + + + + TO VALERIA. + + + Broideries and ancient stuffs that some queen + Wore; nor gems that warriors' hilts encrusted; + Nor fresh from heroes' brows the laurels green; + Nor bright sheaves by bards of eld entrusted + To earth's great granaries--I bring not these. + Only thin, scattered blades from harvests gleaned + Erewhile I plucked, may happen thee to please. + So poor indeed, those others had demeaned + Themselves to cull; or from their strong, firm hands + Down dropped about their feet with careless laugh, + Too broken for home gathering, these strands, + Or else more useless than the idle chaff. + But I have garnered them. Yet, lest they seem + Unworthy, and so shame Love's offering, + Amid the loose-bound sheaf stray flowers gleam. + And fairer seeming make the gift I bring, + Lilies blood-red, that lit the waving field, + And now are knotted through the golden grain. + Thou wilt not scorn the tribute I now yield, + Nor even deem the foolish flowers vain. + So take it, and if still too slight, too small + It seem, think 'tis a bloom that grew anear, + In other Springtime, the old garden wall. + (That pale blue flower you will remember, dear. + The heedless world, unseeing, passed it by, + And left it to the bee and you.) Then say, + "Because the hands that tended it are nigh + No more, and little feet are gone away + That round it trampled down the beaded grass, + Sweeter to me it is than musky spray + Of Southland; and dearer than days that pass + In other summer-tides." This simple song + Read so, dear heart; Nay, rather white-souled one, + Think 'tis an olden echo, wandered long + From a low bed where 'neath the westering sun + You sang. And if your lone heart ever said + "Lo, she is gone, and cannot more be mine," + Say now, "She is not changed--she is not wed,-- + She never left her cradle bed. Still shine + The pillows with the print of her wee head." + So, mother-heart, this song, where through still rings + The strain you sang above my baby bed, + I bring. An idle gift mayhap, that clings + About old days forgotten long, and dead. + This loitering tale, Valeria, take. + Perchance 'tis sad, and hath not any mirth, + Yet love thou it, for the weak singer's sake, + And hold it dear, though yet is little worth, + This tale of Elder-world: of earth's first prime, + Of years that in their grave so long have lain, + To-day's dull ear, through poets' tuneful rhyme + No echo hears, nor mocking friar's strain. + + _July_ 17, 1884. + + + + + LILITH. + + BOOK I. + + + Pure as an angel's dream shone Paradise. + Blue mountains hemmed it round; and airy sighs + Of rippling waters haunted it. Dim glades, + And wayward paths o'erflecked with shimmering shades, + And tangled dells, and wilding pleasances, + Hung moist with odors strange from scented trees. + Sweet sounds o'erbrimmed the place; and rare perfumes, + Faint as far sunshine, fell 'mong verdant glooms. + In that fair land, all hues, all leafage green + Wrapt flawless days in endless summer-sheen. + Bright eyes, the violet waking, lifted up + Where bent the lily her deep, fragrant cup; + And folded buds, 'gainst many a leafy spray-- + The wild-woods' voiceless nuns--knelt down to pray. + There roses, deep in greenest mosses swathed, + Kept happy tryst with tropic blooms, sun-bathed. + No sounds of sadness surged through listening trees: + The waters babbled low; the errant bees + Made answer, murmurous; nor paled the hue + The jonquils wore; nor chill the wild breath grew + Of daisies clustered white in dewy croft; + Nor fell the tasseled plumes as satin soft + Upon the broad-leaved corn. Sweet all the day + O'erflowed with music every woodland way; + And sweet the jargonings of nested bird, + When light the listless wind the forest stirred. + Straight as the shaft that 'gainst the morning sun + The slender palm uprears, the Fairest one-- + The first of womankind--sweet Lilith--stood, + A gracious shape that glorified the wood. + About her rounded shoulders warm and bare, + Like netted sunshine fell her lustrous hair; + The rosy flush of young pomegranate bells + Dawned on her cheeks; and blue as in lone dells + Sleep the Forget-me-nots, her eyes. With bent + Brows, sullen-creased, swart Adam gazed intent + Upon a leopard, crouched low in its place + Beneath his feet. Not once in Lilith's face + He looked, nor sought her wistful, downcast eyes + With shifting shadows dusk, and strange surprise. + "O, Love," she said, "no more let us contend! + So sweet is life, anger, methinks, should end. + In this, our garden bright, why dost thou claim + Ever the highest place, the noblest name? + Freely to both our Lord gave self-same sway + O'er living things. Love, thou art gone astray! + Twin-born, of equal stature, kindred soul + Are we; like dowed with strength. Yon stars that roll + Their course above, down-looking on my face, + See yours as fair; in neither aught that's base. + Thy wife, not handmaid I, yet thou dost say, + 'I first in Eden rule.' Thou, then, hast sway. + Must I, my Adam, mutely follow thee? + Run at thy bidding, crouch beside thy knee? + Lift up (when thou dost bid me) timid eyes? + Not so will Lilith dwell in Paradise." + "Mine own," Adam made answer soft, "'twere best + Thou didst forget such ills in noontide rest. + Content I wake, the keeper of the place. + Of equal stature? Yea! Of self-same grace? + Nay, Love; recall those lately vanished eves, + When we together plucked the plantain leaves; + Yon leopard lowly stretched at my command + Its lazy length beneath my soothing hand. + At thee she snarled, disdaining half, to sheathe + 'Neath thy soft pleading eyes her milk-white teeth. + Oft, Love, in other times, in sheltered nook, + We scattered pearly millet by the brook. + Lo thine lay barren in the sand. Quick mine + Upspringing sifts o'er pale blooms odors fine: + Hateful thy chidings grow; each breeze doth bring + Ever thy plaints--thy fretful murmuring. + These many days I weary of thy sighs; + Know, Lilith, I alone rule Paradise." + Thereat he rose, and quick at every stride + The fawning leopard gambolled at his side. + So fell the first dark shadow of Earth's strife. + With coming evil all the winds were rife. + Lone lay the land with sense of dull loss paled. + The days grew sick at heart; the sunshine failed; + And falling waters breathed in silvery moan + A hidden ail to starlit dells alone-- + As sometimes you have seen, 'neath household eaves, + 'Mong scents of Springtime, in the budded leaves, + The swallows circling blithe, with slant brown wing, + Home-flying fleet, with tender chattering, + And all the place o'errun with nested love-- + So have you come, when leaves hung crisp above + The silent door. Yet not again, I ween, + Those shining wings, cleaving the air, have seen + Nor heard the gladsome swallows twittering there-- + Only the empty nests, low-hung and bare, + Spake of the scattered brood.--So lonely were + To Lilith grown her once loved haunts. Nor fair + The starlit nights, slow-dropping fragrant dew, + Nor the dim groves when dawn came shifting through. + Far 'mong the hills the wood-doves' moan she heard, + Or in some nearer copse, a startled bird; + Or the white moonshine 'mong green boughs o'erhead + Wrought her full heart to tears. "Sweet peace," she said, + "Alas--lies slain!" + With musing worn, she brake + At last her silence, and to Adam spake: + "Beyond these walls I know not what may be-- + Islands low-fringed, or bare; or tranquil sea, + Spaces unpeopled, wastes of burning sands, + Green-wooded belts, enclasping summer lands, + Or realms of dusky pines, or wolds of snow, + Or jagged ice-peaks wrapt in purple glow, + Or shadowy oceans lapped in fadeless sheen-- + Yet there were Paradise, were Lilith queen. + To dally with my lord I was not meant; + To soothe his idle whims, above him bent, + Warm in my milk-white arms, lull his repose, + Nor deep in subtle kisses drown his woes. + Wherefore, since here no more dwells love, I fly + To seek my home in other lands. For why + Should Lilith wait since Adam's empty state + More dear he holds than Lilith desolate?" + But answer soft made Adam at the word, + For faint his dying love, yet coldly stirred + Its ashen cerements: "Nay, love, our home + Within these garden walls lies safe. Wouldst roam + Without? Sweet peace, by loss, wilt thou restore + One little loss, or miss it evermore?" + "In goodly Eden, Adam, safely bide, + But I, for peace, nor love, nor life," she cried, + "Submit to thee. Unto our Lord I own + Allegiance true; my homage his alone. + Oft have I watched the mists athwart yon peaks, + Pursuing oft past coves and winding creeks, + Have thought to touch their shining veil outspread, + In happy days ere Love, alas, was dead; + So now, farewell! Ere the new day shall break + Adown their gleaming track, my way I take." + She turned; but ere the gate that looked without + She reached, one fleeting moment paused in doubt + Upon a river's brink. In one swift glance + All coming time she saw. A weird romance + Wherein she traced great peoples yet unborn, + New springing cycles, strange lands cleft with tarn + Or pleasant vale, and green plains stretching far, + And quiet bays, and many a shingly bar, + And troubled seas, with bitter perils past, + And elfin shapes that jeering flitted fast + With scornful faces, leering lips that smiled, + Or bursts of laughter through that vision wild. + Uncertain, then, she stood, half loth to turn. + "Against yon deepening sky, how dimly burn + The stars, new-lit. Dear home, thou art so fair!" + She fondly sighed. + Then sudden she was 'ware + The angel near her paused, whose watchful care + Guards Eden's peaceful bounds. Serene, his air + So tender-sweet, so pure the gentle face, + She scarce dared look upon its subtle grace. + Sad were his eyes; his words, rebuking, fell + Soft as the moonshine clear, in sleeping dell. + "My sister, go not hence, lest these gates bar + Lilith forever out. From peace afar, + Anger and pride shall lead through distant ways + Thy feet reluctant, in the evil days. + All is decreed. At yonder southern gate + Behold! waits even now my princely mate. + Thou can'st not tell which hath in our far land + The highest place. Nay; nor, indeed, whose hand + Hath grasped the noblest fame; nor yet divine + Whose brows enwound with honor, brightest shine. + In pleasant labor lurks no thought of pain; + The greatest loss oft brings the noblest gain; + The heart's warm pulse feels not one throb of strife, + And Love is holiest crown of human life. + Ere thou didst sleep, beyond the rim of night + I heard a voice that sang. The carol light, + Scarce earth-born seemed. So sweet the matchless strain, + Its cadence weird, lowly to breathe again, + Wrapt echo, listening, half forgot; and o'er + And o'er, as joyous birds unprisoned soar, + The free notes rose. And in the silence wide, + Across the seas, across the night, I cried: + O sinless soul, whose clear voice blithely rings + 'Gainst the blue verge of stars! 'Tis Lilith sings + The happy song of love. O Love! the tint + Of light divine thou wearest. Thou hast no hint + Of storm or turmoil, or of Sin's rough ways, + Whose feet to heaven climb, through darkest maze. + Ah, Lilith, sure the love that basely weighs, + That stoops to count its gifts, and hoarding, says, + 'Such and so many, these indeed are mine; + I hold my treasure dear, nor covet thine;' + This is not love; 'tis Thrift in borrowed dress, + Deceiving thee. Love giveth free largess + With open hand, clean as the whitest day; + Yea, that it gave, forgetteth it straightway. + Beyond these walls dwells bliss that lives not here? + When thou hast bartered peace, outshining clear + And storm-tossed wide, art wildly driven hence, + The outer world gives thee no recompense. + Each shining sphere that trembles in blue space + Hath orbit true--its own familiar place. + Nor doth the planet pale that gems the night + Reel wanton down, the smallest star to smite. + No twining vine, tendril, or springing shoot + Ere taught thee so; for bud and leaf and root + Doth its best self lift upward into light, + Yet climbing still, scorns not the sacred right + That shrines its fellow. + "So pattering rains + The dark roots drink--and healthful juice slow drains + Deep 'neath the mould; and with their secret toil + Bear stainless, leaf and flow'r above the soil. + Noblest the soul that self hath most forgot; + Strongest the self which hath most humbly wrought; + Purest the soul that in full light serene, + Unquestioning, enwrapt, God's field doth glean. + I have seen worlds far hence; thy tender feet + Bleeding, will tread their stony ways. And sweet + Is love. And wedded love, grown cold and rude, + More bitter-seeming makes dull solitude. + Security is sweet; and light and warm + The young heart beats, close shut from every harm." + "Yet," Lilith answered slow, "in that still night + Ere He, the garden's Lord, passed from our sight, + Hast thou forgot his words? 'Lo this fair spot + Made for your pleasance; see ye mar it not, + Oh, twin-born pair! So richly dight with grace + Of soul and stature; unto whom the place + I give. Together rule. Bear equal sway + O'er all that live herein.' Hath Lilith sought + A solitary reign? Hath she in aught + Offended? Nay; 'tis Adam who doth break + The compact. Therefore, unhindered let me take + My way far hence. I shall not vex his soul + With fretful plaints, where unknown stars shall roll, + Far, far away," she sighed. + "Yet ere these bounds + Thy feet pass, linger. Lilith, list glad sounds + That greet thine ear. Slow cycles will pass on + And in the time-to-be-bright years, grow wan; + Old planets fade, new stars shall dimly burn, + But not to Eden's peace shalt thou return. + Oft from thy yearning heart glad hope shall fail. + Thy fruit of life lift bloom all sere and pale. + Certain, small comfort bides, when joy is gone, + In Great or Less. Grim Sorrow waits to lead thee on. + Sorrow! Thou hast not seen her pallid face. + In thy most troubled dream she had no place"-- + "Nay, I depart," she said, with lips grown chill. + "Fearless and free, exiled, but princess still." + "I may not hinder thee," the Angel sighed; + "No soul unwilling here may ever bide." + Slow swung the verdant gates neath saddest eyes. + _Lilith forever lost fair Paradise._ + + + + + BOOK II. + + + Soft stealing through the shade, and skirting swift + The walls of Paradise, through night's dark rift + Lilith fled far; nor stopped lest deadly snare + Or peril by the wayside lurked. + The air + Grew chill. Loud beat her heart, as through the wind + Echoed, unseen, pursuing feet, behind. + + Adown the pathway of the mist she passed, + And reached a weird, strange land at last. + When morning flecked the dappled sky with red, + And odors sweet from waking flowers were shed, + Lilith beheld a plain, outstretching wide, + With distant mountains seamed. + Afar, a silvery tide + The blue shore kissed. And in that tropic glow + Dim islands shone, palm-fringed, and low. + In nearer space, like scarlet arrows flew + Strange birds, or 'mong the reedy fens, or through + Tall trees, of unknown leafage, glancing, went. + Now Lilith seaward passed, and stooping, bent + Her hollowed hand above the wave, and quaffed; + For she was spent with wanderings wide. Loud laughed + She then, beholding on that silent shore + Rare shells, that still faint in their pink lips bore + Wild ocean-songs; and precious stones, that bright + That dim sea's marge, deep in the land of night + Thick strewed. + Then glad, she lifted shining eyes, + Loud crying there, "O Lilith, now arise, + Great queen-triumphant! See how wildly fair + Before me lies my realm! And from its air + Soft, sensuous, new life as ruddy wine, + My spirit drinks. Nor beauty so divine + Hath Eden's self. Look, where upon the sands + The garish mosses spread with dainty hands, + Like goblin network fine, each fairy frond. + And dusky trees shut in broad fields beyond, + And hang long trembling garlands, age-grown-gray, + From topmost boughs adown, athwart the day; + And sweet amid these wilds, bright dewy bells + Ring summer chimes. And soft in fragrant dells, + 'Mong tender leaves, great spikes of scarlet flaunt + About the pools--the errant wild bees' haunt-- + And thick with bramble-blooms pink petals starred, + And dew-stained buds of blue, the velvet sward. + Scarce ripple stirred the sea; and inland wend + Far bays and sedgy ponds; and rolling rivers bend. + A land of leaf and fruitage in the glow + Of palest glamours steeped. And far and low + Great purple isles; and further still a rim + Of sunset-tinted hills, that softly dim + Shine 'gainst the day. "O world, new found," she said, + "With treasures heaped and odors rare, 'mong flowers shed, + For whose dear sake I came o'er flinty ways, + And paths with danger fraught; 'mong brambly sprays, + With bleeding feet, and shoulders thorn-pierced deep. + But perils past, fade fast. And I will weep + My Eden lost no more." And sweet and low + As one who dreams, she said, "For now I know + These mountain heights, these level plains, are mine." + She ceased, and inland quickly turned. "Fair shine + Strange fruits thick-set, or blossoms lightly tossed + Low at my feet." Therewith, a dusk globe, crossed + With golden bands, from bent boughs, stripped she. Through + The gleaming sphere its nectrous juices drew, + And thirsting cried--as one grown drunken: "Mine + These fruits unknown, in thorny combs that shine, + Or gray-green spikes that glow, dull on the sands. + Fain would I pluck, out-reaching eager hands, + Save that a marvel grows of ruddier rind + Out-flinging fruity breath upon the wind, + Beneath harsh spines half-hid. Nor drains + My wilful spouse such nectars fine. Nor gains + His patient care the fruitage rare, these plains + That heaps unheeded. Nay, nor bearded grains + Golding this goodly land, where Lilith reigns." + + So passed the glad years on, and o'er her home-- + Its woods and mountains, its clear streams--to roam, + She loved. The inmost throb of Nature's heart + She felt amid the grass. Each daintiest part + Of Nature's work she knew; each gain, each loss. + And reverent watched on high the starry cross + Gleaming, mute symbol in that southern dome + Of One--the Promised One--of days to come. + + The rifted sea-shell on the shingly beach + She scanned, pitying each inmate gone. Each + Named. 'Mong beetling crags, the sea-bird's home, + Light-footed, went. Or, idly, in the foam + Under the cocoa-palms, her fingers dipped, + Much marveling to see where featly slipped + Beneath the waves scaled creatures, crimson-dyed + Or luminous: Barred-yellow, purple pied, + Rose-tinted, opaline, or dight with stain, + Rich as the rainbow streaks, when through the rain + The Sun's kiss falls. Much wondered she when bright + By sedgy pools, flamingoes stalked. And light + The startled ostrich bent his headlong flight + O'er desert bare. And on the woody height + Trooped zebras, velvet-brown. The date's green crest + Beneath, the peaceful camels lay at rest. + And slender-straight camelopards the boughs + Down-drew, the lush-green leaves thereon to browse. + Or oft 'mong oozy bogs, or through the fens, + Fearless she went, when low, 'mong reedy dens + The water-courses by, huge creatures slept, + Or in the jungles spotted panthers crept, + And in the thickets deadly serpents wound + Like blossomed wreaths, their coils upon the ground. + All forms of life she saw; with tenderest care + Uplifting humblest sprays, or blooms most rare. + Pierced the deep heart of Nature's subtlest lore, + Touched highest knowledge, probed the inmost core + Of hidden things. She tracked each circling world + And the wide sweep of billows lightly curled. + Each page the Master writ she read, close furled + In lotus blooms, or, 'mong the storm-clouds whirled; + Or traced, star-lettered, on the flaming scroll + The night unwinds toward the southern pole. + And sometimes wiling idle days, she wove + In quaint device, gems from her treasure-trove, + Rare garlanded, or set in flashing zone + Soft emerald, sapphire pale, and many a stone + Out-gleaming amethyst. Her yellow hair + Among, the glinting diamonds shone. And there + The sultry topaz burned. And laughing, twined + She round her bare white throat red rubies shrined + In pearls. + Or she among the haunts would rove + That sheltered island birds; or in the grove, + Or 'mong the rocky cliffs, where dainty nests + They fashioned swift. She scaled the seaward crests, + And on the sands piled turtle eggs, when all + About hoarse-shrieked the water-fowl, or call + Of plovers fell among the tangled glens, + Or lonely bitterns' boom came o'er the fens. + So traversed she her realm, when mangoes green + Baobabs by, showed freshest hues; and sheen + Of silver touched acacias slight; and lone + The solitary aloes, dreamed. The moan + Of that far sea against the shore brake soft. + And through that blossom-burdened land as oft + She roamed and far, sweet sped the passing days. + Till one dawned fairest, in whose noon-tide haze + Sweet slumbering she lay; and dreamed-steeped still, + Half conscious, caught the tinkle of a rill + In far-off Paradise. More silver clear + Across her thoughts, as once she loved to hear, + Rippled the waters, low against the stones + Where poised gemmed dragon-flies; and sudden moans + Shook 'mong blue flags. Waked, vague unrest + And tender yearning rose within her breast, + And longing love, that she ne'er more might still. + When late upon her parting day smiled chill, + Pensive she gazed upon the darkling land, + With lingering feet o'er-passed the shining strand, + And silent sat on an o'erhanging ledge, + The sea o'erlooking. Far the horizon's edge + Athwart her gaze a rim of blue hills cleft, + Whereat she sighed. "So rose, ere I them left, + So smiled, the dim hills round my Eden home. + But I--wherefore recall, when far I roam, + Dreams vanished--gone? And now since long time dead + Is that fair past, I fain would lay it low + Where soft about it memories sweet may blow + As summer winds the fallen leaves among." + Then passed her tender thoughts, and loud and glad + As our morn wakens, strong that yesternight slept sad, + She sang. The song triumphant upward swelled, + Unsorrowed by soft dreams or thoughts of eld-- + As fresh the full, free, mellow notes did rise + As the blithe skylark's strain, anear the skies: + + High, high, bold Eagle, soar; + I watch thy flight, above thy craggd rock. + Below thee, torrents roar, + Down-bursting wild with angry shock + Upon the vales. O proud bird, free, + My spirit, mounting, follows thee, + Still follows thee, still follows thee. + + O Sea--O Sea so wide! + Far roll thy waves ere yet they find thy shore. + I hear thy sullen tide + Break 'neath the beetling cliffs with muffled roar. + Afar, afar, O moaning Sea, + My roving soul still follows thee, + Still follows thee, still follows thee. + + O Whirlwind black--O strong! + Thy scorching breath fierce burns the crouching land + And thou dost sweep along + The raveled clouds. O Whirlwind, see-- + My spirit rising, follows thee, + Still follows thee, still follows thee. + + Nay, nay! My dauntless soul, + Still higher than thy wing, O Eagle, soars, + And wider still than roll + Thy waves, and further than thy shores, + My spirit flees--O Sea--O Sea + No more it follows, follows thee. + + Whirlwind, more strong than thou + My soul, that fearless leaps to thine embrace + And thy stern, wrinkled brow + Doth tender touch and soothingly, + And vassal art thou still to me, + That no more, Whirlwind, follows thee. + + Swift changed her mood, and darkened in her face. + As sometimes in an open, sunny place + The sudden dusks o'er crinkling waters run, + So fell her thoughts to music. And as one + That grieves, she sang. That lay--soft, weirdly clear, + The babbling waves made murmurous pause to hear: + + Fair land (she sang), O sun-steeped realm of mine, + The Sun, thy lover, hath his farewell kiss. + I only pine + While dim stars shine. + + Strong is thy Day-god! yet his parting kiss + Falls soft upon thy faltering lips. O land, + Thou hast a bliss + I ever miss. + + Fast comes the night, and warm, for thy dear sake, + The shadows curtain dusk, thy lonely rest. + I only wake + My plaint to make. + + Fair land, my lover cold, doth careless take + From my shut lips his flight. Here leaves me lone + My moan to make, + My heart to break. + + She ceased. But still the song did float and fade, + As failing sunshine soft, in woodland glade. + And Lilith, listening, heard--so wild, so shrill, + Yet dream-like, far, again that tinkling rill + In Paradise. And o'er her spirit swept + A sadness bitter-sweet, as 'neath the green palms crept + The wind, low-sighing, faint. As from lone nest + A bird torn pinion lifts, striving to soar + To shelter safe, so, Edenward once more + Turned Lilith's drooping thoughts. + Uprose she then, + And brooding, homeward slowly went again. + + + + + BOOK III. + + + Wide through her realm she walked, and glad or lorn + She mused. So, loitering, it chanced one morn + When lone she sat upon a mountain height, + One sudden stood anear, whose dark eyes bright + Upon her shone. Pallid his face, and red + His smileless lips. "Who art thou?" Lilith said, + And faint a hidden pain her hot heart stirred, + When low, and rarely sweet, his voice she heard. + She looked, half-pleased--and half in strange surprise + Shrank 'neath the gaze of those wild, starry eyes. + "Oh, dame," the stranger said, "where waters leap + Bright glancing down, I rested oft, where steep + Thy Eden o'er, bare-browed, a peak uprose. + Naught craving bloom or fruitage--nay, nor those + Frail joys Adam holds dear. One only boon + I sought of all his heritage. Fair 'neath the moon + I saw thee stand; and all about thy feet + The night her perfume spilled, soft incense meet. + Then low I sighed, when grew thy beauty on my sight, + 'Some comfort yet remains, if that I might + From Adam pluck this perfect flower. Some morn-- + If I (some dreamed-of morn, perchance slow-born) + This flawless bloom, white, fragrant, lustrous, pure + For ever on my breast might hold secure.' + Yea, for thy love, through darkling realms of night + I followed thee, sharing thy fearful flight + Unseen. Lo, when thy timid heart, behind + Heard echoing phantom feet upon the wind, + 'Twas I, pursuing o'er the day's last brink; + Wherefore, I now am here. O Lilith, think + How over-much I love thee, and how sweet + Were life with thee! O weary naked feet, + With me each onward path wilt thou not tread? + Or, if thou endest here thy quest," he said, + "Let me too bide with thee." + Made answer low + Lilith thereto: "Meseems not long ago + One stood at Eden's gate like thee. But thy face + Is darker, red thy lips. Of kingly race + I know thee. Say, whence comest thou, O prince?" + "Nay, then," he sighed, "an outcast I, long since + From Heaven thrust out; yet now, the curse is past, + Nor mourn I Heaven lost, if at the last + Thy love I win. Yea, where thou art, I know + Is Heaven. And bliss, in sooth" (oh, soft and low, + He said), "lives ever in thy smile." + His speech + Thus ended. And toward the sandy beach + He passed. Though long her eyes the stranger sought + Where curved the distant shore, she saw him not. + + Soft through the trees the mottled shadows dropped + When Lilith in her pleasance sat. Half-propped + 'Gainst mossy trunk her slender length. Her hair + In sunny web, enmeshed her elbows bare. + Slowly the breeze swayed the mimosas slight + As Eblis pushed aside the bent boughs light. + "O dame," he said, "it seemeth surely meet + Earth's richest gifts to lay at Lilith's feet; + Therefore I said 'unto the fairest one, + Things loveliest beneath the shining sun + I bring.' Since of all crafts in this young earth + I am true master, unto her whose worth + So much deserves, I bear this marble sphere, + Whose hollowed husk, well polished, gleaming clear, + Hides rarest fruit." Therewith the globe he showed, + The half whereof smooth-sparkling was: Half glowed + With carven work; embossed with pale leaves light, + And delicately sculptured birds in flight, + And clustered flowers frail. Lilith drew near + With beaming eyes, and laid the graven sphere + Against her smiling lips; o'ertraced the vine + That circled it with fingers slim. "Mine, mine + Is it, O prince?" she cried. "I know not why + Its beauty doth recall the winds' long sigh + That surged among the palms. Methinks is dead + Some summer-tide, that in its own sweet stead + Hath left upon the stone its imaging." + Eblis replied: "On earth, is anything + More fair? If such thou knowest, Lilith, speak. + That I, for thee, surely would straightway seek. + Say, if indeed thou findest anywhere, + On land or sea, created things so rare?" + And Lilith answered, "On this earth so round, + Naught else so lovely anywhere I found. + So shames it meaner work--so had I said-- + But see yon nodding palm that droops its head + Low sighing o'er the wave. Bring me a bough + So feathery-fine. Turn thy white sphere! Now + On its cold, fair surface, Eblis, canst thou + Such branches carve, or tender fronds, that we + Bright waving on the cocoa, these may see?" + And Eblis wrought till grew upon the stone + Such airy boughs as on the cocoa shone. + Then Lilith cried: "Skilled craftsman, proven thou! + Didst thou, then, make my cocoa-tree? Thy bough + Pale graven give the grace of its green crown + When through it night winds gently slip adown. + No charm of color, nor of change, nor glow + Of blue noon sky, thy carven work doth show; + Let dusk bees visit it--or sip the breath + From thy chill marble buds." Then, Lilith saith, + "Eblis hath wroughten noblest on this earth." + He answered quick, "Poor bauble, little worth + To Lilith! Ope thy slighted husk, reveal + The miracle thy rough rind doth conceal!" + + He touched a hidden spring, and wide apart + The riven sphere showed its white hollow heart, + And in the midst a gem; the which he laid + Within her hand. "Behold," he said, "I made + Most fair for thee this lustrous blood-red sard, + And deftly traced its gleaming surface hard + With carvings thick of bright acacias slim, + Pomegranates lush and river-reeds. Its rim + A spray of leaves enchased, white as with rime + Night fallen. 'Slow drags the lagging time,' + I said, 'till one day shines upon the breast + Of her, whose perfect beauty worthiest + It decks, this gem.' The token, Lilith, take; + If lovelier there be, for Eblis' sake + Keep silent; yet with me, oh Lilith, go + Awhile from thine own land. Then shall I know + The gem finds favor in thine eyes." + Then she + Turned from her pleasance and all silently + Passed to the sea, across the yellow strand + That, glimmering, ringed her shadowy land. + "Oh cool," he said, "the lucent waves that fret + The barren shore, and curl their scattered spray wet + 'Gainst thy hand. Come! my longing pinnace waits + To bear thee far. Her slender keel now grates + Upon the beach; and swift her shapely prow + Will skim the deep, as swallows' fleet wing. Thou + Seest! comely and strong it is. For thee + Its golden sails, its purple canopy. + With skin of spotted pard, I cushioned it. + Ere the fresh breeze doth die, light let us flit + Across the sea. No craft so proud, so staunch, + Goes glancing through the foam. I safely launch + Her now, and speed to fairy isles. Come thou + With me." And glad she crossed the burnished prow; + And 'mong the thick furred rugs sat down. "Oh craft, + Fair fashioned, lightly built, speed far," she laughed; + "To other lands bear Lilith safe." + As sailed + They idly on, her slender hand she trailed + Among the waves, and sudden cried, "Indeed, + A craft stauncher than thine floats by. What need + Hath it of helm, or prow, or silken sail, + Sure harbor finding when the ocean gale + Fast drives it onward?" A nut she drew, round, + Rough, coarse-husked, forth from the wave. "Lo, I found," + She said, "this boat well built. The cocoa-tree + Cast it amid the foam. Its pilot free, + The summer wind; its port, the misty shore + Of ocean isles. It fades from sight. 'No more,' + We say, 'it sails the wild uncertain main,' + But when the drifting days are gone, again + We turn our prow, and reach the barren isles + Where, stranded as we went, the nut. Now smiles + Above; a bending tree. Aloud we cry, + 'A miracle is wrought!' We draw anigh. + Behold, the cocoa, towering, doth spring + Forth from the brown nut's heart. About it cling + Sweet odors faint; and far stars trembling peep. + When through its bowers cool the breezes creep. + Strong, indeed, thy boat, well builded! I wis + There be yet other craft as firm, Eblis, + That o'er these trackless waters boldly glide. + Brave Nautilus afar, doth fearless ride, + With sails of gossamer. So, too, doth spread, + To summer airs, his silken gleaming thread, + The water-spider fleet, free sailor true + That in the sunshine floats, beneath the blue, + Glad skies. And through the deep, all sparkling, slip + A thousand insect-swarms, that, rippling, dip + Amid the merry waves. Bright voyagers + That roam the sultry seas! Look, the wind stirs + Our creaking sails! Thy pinnace flying o'er + The ocean's swell, fast leaves the fading shore; + Yet faster still the Nautilus sails by, + And darts the spider quick. And swifter fly + The insect-fleets among the foam; yet think + Not when among the billows wild doth sink + Thy bounding boat, I fear. Nor would I slight + Thy skill, that made it strong, and swift, and light, + And trimmed it gayly, for my sake." + Now near + A jutting shore Prince Eblis drew, where sheer + The brown rocks rose. And just beyond, a slim + Beach of white sand curved to the ocean's brim. + Thereto he came, and high upon the strand + Drew the boat's keel. "Welcome, fair queen, to land + That Eblis rules," he said. "I fain would show + Thee what thou hast not seen in the warm glow + Of thy glad home. This blighted shore of mine + No verdure hath, nor bloom, nor fruits that shine + 'Mong drooping boughs. Far inland gloom lone peaks + O'er blackened meads; or from their bare cones leaps + Gaunt, crackling flame; or crawl like ashen veins + The smouldering fires across the stricken plains. + Deep in these yawning caves black shadows lie + That shall be lifted never more. Come, I + Enter! Know thou what treasure by the sea + I gathered other time." Therewith showed he + Hid 'mong the high heaped rocks a dusky grot + Where never sunshine fell. A dismal spot + Where dank the sea-weeds coiled and cold the air + Swept through. And stooping, Eblis downward rolled + Before her webs of woven stuff, in fold + Of purple sheen, enwrought with flecks of gold. + Great wefts of scarlet and of blue, thick strewn + With pearls, or cleft with discs of jacinth stone; + And drifts of silky woof and samite white, + And warps of Orient hues. Eblis light + Wound round her neck a scarf of amber. Wide + Its smooth folds sweeping flowed; and proud he cried, + "Among these hills, in the still loom of night, + I wrought for Lilith's pleasing, all. And bright + Have spun these webs, in blended morning hues + And noontide shades and trail of silver dews-- + Hereon have set fair traceries of cloud-shine + And tints of the far vales. The textures fine + Glow with sweet thoughts of thee. And otherwhere + Hast thou such fabrics seen, or colors rare + As these?" Dawned in her eyes a swift delight, + And low she cried, "Oh, wondrous is the sight, + And much it pleaseth me. But yet," she said, + "Beside my knee one morn, its hooded head + A Hag reared. Its gliding shape so near + To subtler music moved, than my dull ear + Could catch. Its velvet skin I gently strake, + Watching the light that o'er its heaped coils brake + In glittering waves. Within its small, wise glance, + Flame silent slept, or quick in baleful dance + Before my startled gaze quivering did wake. + Fair is thy woof, soft woven, yet the snake + Out-dazzles it. The beetle that doth boom + Its dull life out among the tangled gloom, + Lift his wide wing above thy weft, or trail + His splendor there, and thy poor web will pale; + Yea, the red wayside lily that doth snare + The girdled bee, is softer still, more fair + Than finest woven cloth." But tenderly + She smoothed the gleaming folds. "Much pleaseth me, + Natlhess," she said, "such loveliness." Then brought + He tapestries of fleeces fine, well wrought + In colors soft as woodland mosses' tinge, + Or glow of autumn blooms: Heavy with fringe + Of downward sweeping gold; arras, where through + Showed mottled stripes, or arabesques of blue, + Broad zones of red, and tender grays, and hue + Of dropping leaves. "Lilith," he said, "when rolled + The storm-tossed billows round these caves, behold + I spun these daintily. 'Twere hard to find + Such twisted weft or woven strand." "Oh, kind," + She said, "is Eblis, unto whom I fain + Would give due thanks. His gorgeous train + But yesterday I saw the peacock spread; + Bright in the sun gleamed his small crested head; + His haughty neck wrinkled to green and blue, + And since I needs must truly speak, I knew + Not color rich as his: and I have seen + The curious nest among the branches green, + The busy weaver-bird plaits of thick leaves, + And in and out its pliant meshes weaves; + And since thou sayest 'twere hard to match thy fine, + Strong, woven fabrics, watch the weaver twine + His cunning wefts. Though still," she said, "think not + I scorn thy gifts, Prince Eblis; for I wot + Their worth is greater than my tongue can say." + Then Eblis deeper in the cave led her a little way, + And showed a stately screen of such fine art + One almost felt the breeze that seemed to part + The pictured boughs. And o'er the stirless lake + Dreamed the swift, wimpling waters sudden brake + Among the willows on its brink--and flowers + Of scarlet, shining-clean from summer showers; + And Eblis said, "Cold praise a friend should spare + This picture true. Certain naught else will dare + Vie with such beauty." + Archly Lilith took + The rose from her bright hair, and lightly shook + The dewdrop from its heart. "I loving, touch," + She said, "these petals smooth. O, Eblis, such + Give to thy painted blooms; give its cool sheen + Of morningtide, the mossy, lush leaves green + That fold it round. Give its faint, fragrant breath, + When with the fickle breeze it dallieth. + Nay, fairer still my rose than gilded screen, + Though it be limned with perfect art, I ween." + Thereat smiled Eblis bitterly. "I bring + One parting gift," he said, "a dainty thing; + Perchance in other time it will recall + One who strove long and patiently through all + These days to win thy praise." An oval plane + Of crystal gave he her; of fleck or stain + Clear-gleaming. Of ivory carven fine + The frame. And when she looked, "Divine," + He laughed, "the beauty it enshrines. Canst claim + Aught else is fairer?" And Lilith again + Gazed in the glass, her face beholding there, + Her pink flushed cheeks, her yellow streaming hair. + Quick came her breath. "O prince," she slowly said, + "Fair is the stranger. Bid those lips so red + Speak once to Lilith. For methinks the voice + Of such in music flowed. Let me rejoice + Therein." "O glorious counterfeit!" cried + He. "Lovelier is not on this earth wide! + Behold, sweet Lilith, 'tis thine own pure face + That lends my happy mirror perfect grace + It else had not. Bid thou thine image speak! + No other happiness I elsewhere seek, + If the soft tale she whispers be of me." + And Lilith answered gravely, "I know thee, + Eblis. Master indeed of all crafts thou-- + Red Sard, and marble sphere, and agile prow + Of pinnace light well wroughten were by thee + And decked full fair. And, beauteous to see, + Fine woven weft and web, and the tall screen + O'errun with painted bloom, crystal, with gleam + Of Lilith's face--thou madest these. Mayhap + Beetle and asp likewise didst tint--didst wrap + The green about my rose, and richly fringe + My cocoa-tree, or peacock's train didst tinge + With dazzling hues. Methought thou wert a prince, + But now Lilith should humbly kneel, since + Thou art far higher than she deemed, if thou + Madest these wondrous things." And lowly now + As she would kneel, she drew anigh. But he + Cried, shrinking, "Nay, I made them not." And she + Low questioned, "Eblis, tell me who then, did make + Them all. Who set the creeping hooded snake + And stealthy pard within the thorny brake, + And spread the sea, and wreathed the waterfall + With foam? Who reared the hoar hills, towering tall + Above the lands?" With eyes wild flashing, low + He groaned: "O Lilith, ask me not. My foe + He was--he is. Trembles with wrath my frame + If I but faintly breathe his awful name." + Lilith replied, "Meseemeth, master true + Of every craft is He." + Forth the two + From that drear cavern passed. Ere the water's brim + They gained, he plucked the wilding reeds, that slim + Stood by a brook. "My pipe I make, one strain + Harmonious to wake. Nor yet again + Shalt thou such fresh notes hear. Music like mine + Methinks thou hast not known in any time." + He laid his pipe unto his lips, and blew + A blast, wild, piercing, sweet. The far hills through + It rung. And softer fell, yet wild and clear. + It ceased. With drooping eyes, "Once I did hear + A song as wildly clear, as sad," she said, + "In mine own realm." And as she spoke, dark dread + The sky grew with a coming storm. "Oh, haste," + He cried; "seek refuge ere this dreary waste + Reeks with the rain!" And fast they sped + Back to his ocean-cave. There safe, o'erhead + They watched the piling clouds. With angry roar + The baffled billows broke upon the rocks. O'er + Them rushed the shrieking storm. Wild through the grot + Wandered the prisoned wind, a troubled ghost that sought + Repose. Or low did moan, and trembling, wail, + Like some sore-hearted thing that hideth, pale, + And dare not front the day; and wilder still, + In chords melodious, swelled or sank, until + She sighed, "Oh, this weird harp among the caves, + Strange players hath! For loud as one that raves, + It rises. Now more sweetly fade away + Its mellow notes than thy thin pipes." "One day," + He said, "mayhap my strain may please, when wind + Doth not outpipe my slighted reeds. Unkind + Thou art." "The storm is past; to mine own land + I would return," she said. And Eblis o'er the strand + Led her. And homeward silent turned his prow + That swiftly through the swirling waves did plow. + But when they parted, Eblis mused, "I know + No gift soever winneth her, rich though + It be and seemly. Into this pure soul, + Through fear of ill, I enter; or by goal + Of future gain before it set." + So came + He to her pleasance yet again. A flame + Leaped high above a brazier that he bore, + Its sweet, white, scented wood quick lapping o'er. + With darkened face Eblis above her hung. + "This hath, than my poor pipe, a keener tongue," + Smileless and stern, he said. "Oh, dame, + List how the wild, crisp, crackling ruby flame + Eats through the tender boughs. A trusty knave + It is, that serves me well, and loud doth rave + As tiger caged. When I do set it free, + With angry fangs leaps on its prey. But see, + It now sleeps harmlessly, till Eblis calls + His faithful servant back. Lilith, when falls + The red fire at thy feet, dost fear?" "Nay, nay," + She cried, and drew her white neck up. "A way + To tame it thou hast found. Believe me, since + It is thy slave I too will bind it, prince. + Should Lilith fear? Unfaltering, these eyes + Have watched when rushing storm-clouds heaped the skies, + And the black whirlwind, with loud, deafening roar, + Beat the torn waves; or whirled against the shore + The tumbling billows, with fierce lips that bit + The shrinking land. And the wreathed lightnings split + The cloud with thunder dread: or wildly burst + Upon the sea the water-spout. Shall first + She fear thy flame, who feared not these?" "Fit mate + Art thou for Eblis," answered he. "His fate + Share, great-souled one. Thou wouldst not meanly shrink, + Though his strong heart did fail. O Lilith, think! + The crown of clustered worlds thou mayest find, + If thou with him who loveth thee wilt bind + Thy life." "Nay, far happier seems to me + Than eagle caged, the wild lark soaring free," + She said. And through her rose-pleached alleys strayed + They to the sea. And tender music made + That guileful voice; yet slow his wooing sped + Those summer days. But when were dead + And brown the crisping leaves, "Oh, love," he said, + "Of all the centuries, thou rarest bloom, + Thy shut heart open wide. Its sweet perfume, + Though I should die, fain would I parting drink. + Sleeps yet thy love? From me no longer shrink, + My Lilith. Oh, lift up thy tender eyes; + In their blue depths doth happy morning rise; + 'Tis night if they be closed." + She softly sighed; + And ancient strife recalling, thus replied: + "When dwelt a prince discrowned, well satisfied? + And fallen, loving, still art thou a prince, + And otherwhiles might sorrow bring me, since + It might hap thou wouldst much desire her realm, + Were Lilith thine; for princes seize the helm + When Love lies moored, and bid the shallop seek + Across the waves new lands. But Love is weak, + And so, alas, the craft upon the sands + Is dashed, while one, on-looking, wrings her hands. + Such days I have outlived. Like Adam, thou + Perchance will seek to bind the loosed. Then how + (If one hath drunken wine of liberty) + Shall she, athirst, rejoice; no longer free, + Be glad?" + "My love," he said, "large-hearted lives, + Full dowers thee, and royal bounty gives, + Nor knoweth law, save Lilith's wish alone." + "Why, then," she answered, "on the polished stone + That fronts yon hill, write, Eblis, in full day, + That other time we read it clear, and say, + 'Hereon are graven all those early vows + We whispered low aneath the summer boughs,' + Write every word. That so the stone shall be + Ever a witness mute twixt thee and me. + Then shall I know thou seekest in me no thrall + For after-days, if thou make compact. All + Thou hast said, write now." + Then on the stone, + As she had said, graved Eblis, and thereon + Did set his seal. So wedded they: and hand + In hand the wide world roamed. Or in her land + Abode. And oft, of hours, ere yet on earth + He walked, she questioned. Or he loosed with mirth + Her yellow hair, down-streaming o'er his arm; + And 'gainst his cheek her breath came sweet and warm; + As through his dusky locks caressing played + Her fingers slim; and shadows, half afraid, + She saw in his wild eyes. + Or paths remote + They trod, watching the white clouds rise and float + Athwart the sky. Or by the listless main, + Or 'neath the lotus bough, slow paced the twain. + Or dragon-trees spread their cool leafy screen. + And faint crept odors through the mangroves green, + Where paused the pair upon the sandy shore. + Love-tranced, unheeded, swiftly passed them o'er + Glad summer days: till one hour softly laid + At Lilith's feet a fair, lone babe, that strayed + From distant Dreamland far. So might one deem + That looked upon its face. Or, it might seem + From other climes, a rose-leaf blown apart, + Down-fluttered there, to gladden Lilith's heart. + + + + + BOOK IV. + + + To that fair Elf-child other summers came; + But Lilith walked, heart-hungered, filled with shame, + Naught comforted. And in that shadow-land + She sorrowing bore, in after-time, a band + Of elfin babes, that waked dim echoes long + Forgotten there, and ghastly bursts of song. + Then Lilith saddened more, for that she knew + The curse was fallen now. And cried she through + Fast-falling tears, "Oh, me most desolate, + That shall not know in any time the fate + Of happier mothers! Nay, nor cool touch + Of baby hands. Oh, longed-for, loved so much! + Alas, my babes, ere yet hour-old ye fly, + Out-spreading shining wings with jeering cry, + Afar from me. Most hapless I, from whom + The crown of motherhood, yet white with bloom, + Falls blighted! Close in these empty arms fain + Would I clasp my babes! My tender pain + But once could ye not solace? Nay, 'tis vain; + I shall not kiss their lips, nor hear again, + As gladder mothers may, low-rippling, sweet, + The laughter children bring about their feet. + Oh, soulless ones, can ye not wait awhile, + 'Till on your loveless lips I wake one smile?" + But merrily out-laughed the phantom crew; + On shining pinions white, swift seaward flew, + Or upward rose, slow-fading in the blue; + Or lured her trembling, green morasses through. + And 'mong the frothy waves they vanished fast; + Or shrieked with glee borne on the wintry blast, + And wilder raised their warlock song. + While fairer grew each day that elfin throng. + + To pluck the mangoes brown, fair Lilith sped + One morn. Quick throbbed her heart. On mossy bed + Lay all her babes. With face like morning, shone + One there, and wide her yellow hair out-blown + As 'twere in play. Red-flushed her cheeks, and deep + About her lips the baby smiles. Asleep + Was one, white-gleaming, pure as pearl unseen + In sunless caves, close-shut. And one did lean + Against his fellow, lithe, sun-flushed and brown, + With rings of jetty hair that low adown + His bosom streamed. And one there was, whose dream + O'erflowed with laughter. And one did seem + Half-waking. One, with dimpled arms in sleep + Thrust elbow-deep in moss, that sure did weep + Ere yet he slept, and on his cheek scarce dried + The wilful tears. + Then low, pale Lilith cried + As near she drew, down-bending tender eyes: + "And are ye here, my babes; and will ye rise + If I but break your sleep?" His naked feet + One faintly moved as low she leant; and warm + His slumbrous breath stirred 'gainst her circling arm, + And slow aneath his closed lids slipped a waft + Of wind, that loosed a trickling tear. Its craft + The mother-heart forgot thereat. "At last, + Close to my breast, my babes," she cried, and fast + Laughing, outstretched her eager hands and strong. + Then lay with empty arms. + The elfin throng + Breasted the pulsing air with mocking song. + "Alas," she said, "could ye not give one kiss-- + One tender clasp of hands! And must I miss + Your throbbing hearts from my cold, barren breast, + Ye soulless ones, that flout my lonely rest?" + + There, prostrate, long lay Lilith, and there, late + 'Mid dew-fall, Eblis found his stricken mate. + "O Eblis, say o'er me what curse hangs bare, + For now no more," she said, "this realm seems fair. + Its fruits grow bitter, all its light falls chill. + With thee, my prince, poor Lilith mates but ill-- + Earth-born, with angel linked. Alas, is left + No joy to me, of my sweet ones bereft. + Methinks soft baby lips might erewhile drain + From Lilith's famished heart its wildest pain. + Wherefore, my Eblis, it were wise to seek + Surcease of grief. That Lilith, is so weak + Who wedded thee; and that she sinned, knew not. + Yet, if we part, mayhap may follow naught + Of other ills." + "Sweet love," he laughed, "o'er-late + Thou art so timorous. At Eden's gate + Not so, what time the angel barred her way + My Lilith stood. Shelter within my arms. Oh, say, + Was not our young love sweet? Hath it grown cold? + With me thou sharest endless life; nor old, + Nor shrivelled, shalt thou be. And not one trace + Of earth's decay (sure doom of thy sad race) + Shall taint thy babes. For lo, I give + Thy soulless ones immortal youth. They live + Without a pang. And yet, methinks the cry + Of Earth adown the ages sounds, when die + Its babes; and mothers bend dumb lips above, + And fold still hands, that answer not their love. + Lilith, doth not indeed my love outweigh + Caresses missed from phantom babes? Astray + From Eden long, here in this fair domain + To bide; and through long cycles fearless reign + Methinks were joy. In summer sheen + Wide spreads thy land. The marge of islets green + The palm-trees skirt. Soft shine the dusk lagoons + And inland mountains. Mirk the jungle's glooms, + And fair thy fertile plains. Oh, sweet the glow + When we together watch the day, that low + Among the winds lies still. Shut lilies blow + While here we wait. Come, for they fain would show + Their golden hearts. Or, love, with me to float + Were it not sweet, through flowery bays remote, + Past coves and peaks? Or pierce yon ocean's verge, + And through wild tumbling waves our sails to urge?" + "Yea, sweet is love," she said, "and sweet to roam + By listless currents lulled; or 'mid the foam + Low dip our feathery oars," she sighed, "yet sore + Is still the mother-heart that hears no more + The lisping tongues. And sad, when baby smiles + Have left it desolate. And baby wiles + Shall cheer it never more." + "Yet," Eblis said, + "Lilith, no longer mourn. For I have read + Upon a scroll as samite glistening white, + All coming fate, close hid from human sight, + Great peoples yet shall dwell in these dusk lands. + Then shall thy children, shadowy bands + That fly thy fond caress, with them abide + In closest fellowship. And though they hide + Sometimes from human ken their better selves, + Still loved, remain these tricksy elves. + Though yet indeed some quips and pranks they play, + 'Tis but a jest, men know, when far away + The flickering marsh-fires swift they light + And children follow their false tapers bright + Among the spongy bogs. The ship-lad smiles, + When distant 'mid the waves the phantom isles + Rise green. 'Tis but a harmless jest that sets + On lonely plains, domes, mosques, and minarets, + And o'er the desert sands, mirage uplifts + When glimmering waves shine through deep rifts + Of crested palms. + "Still dearer they when wide + To undiscovered lands men boldly ride + Across new seas, and turn their venturous prows. + When tempests shriek, and wet about their brows + The salt spray dashes fierce, one, watching, cries, + 'Good mates, no storm I fear, for yonder rise + The Elf-babes 'mid the foam. Ye goblin crew, + That sail these unknown seas, we follow you + To harbor safe. Ho, ho! With beckoning hands, + Wind-driven, loud they cry--My mates! the lands, + The golden lands we seek, are ours!' + + "In Earth's brown bosom pent, the hardy wight + Long in deep caverns dwells; and hard doth smite + The rocky caves. Nor sees the golden spoil + Through weary days of wasted, lonely toil. + From his wild eyes, far-flying hides the prize, + Till desperate, angered, worn, aloud he cries: + 'Vain, vain! The caves my labor answer not, + Nor yellow threads, that gleam in any grot. + Hard, cruel, silent hills, my strength ye mock, + And seal your treasures close in flinty rock; + So, after toilsome years, sweet wife, I bring + To thee no sparkling love-gift. Nay, nor anything + To cheer our failing time.' + + "Then round him hears + He sturdy blows, and listening, almost fears + He dreams. But swift the echoes rise, and still + More loudly roll, and quick replies the hill. + Reverberant, through all the caverns round, + The uproar swells, and fills the world with sound. + Then lists he once again. 'With lusty shocks + Your hammers ring against the hard-ribbed rocks-- + Goblins!' he boldly shouts, 'smite! smite! ye bring + My treasure forth, dark-beating goblin wing + Among the gleaming caves, whose dusk veins hold + The gold. At last! At last, the ruddy gold!' + + "And lone, in stricken fields, the husbandman + Sits pale, with anxious eyes that hopeless scan + The burning sky. Hot lie the glimmering plain + And uplands parched. 'Behold, the bending grain, + Fair in the springtide, now is dead; and dry + The brooks. If yet the rainfall fail, we die + Of famine sore. No bleating lambs I hear in fold + Safe shut, nor lowing kine; nor on the wold + The whir of mounting bird: Nor thrives about me + Any living thing. So seemeth, end must be + Of striving. Since all the land is cursed, + What matter if by famine scorched, or thirst, + We die?' he saith. + "And thick the warlock swarm + Above his head, wide-spreading dark wings warm, + Fast flitted by. The waiting fields he stands + Among. And laughing, claps exultant hands. + 'Good speed ye, Sprites! that bring the welcome cloud + And pile the vapors thick,' he shouts aloud. + Oh! sweet shall bloom again the bending grain, + And clothe afresh the wide, the wasted plain. + The clouds sweep black. Ha, ha! Against my cheek + The big drops fall. Merry the goblins shriek. + Behold, they mount, they sink, they rise again. + Ho, friendly elves, that bring the longed-for rain!'" + + Thereat, he, smiling, ceased. And when soft crept + The listening stars across the sky, they slept + Untroubled, 'neath the mango-trees. + But when midway + The night was spent, Prince Eblis waking lay. + Soft Lilith's breathing 'mong the droopt leaves stirred. + And he, sore troubled, mused on every word + That Lilith spake ere yet they slept. In all + Foreseeing much of ill that might befall + Their love. "O, queenly soul! Of finer grain + Thou art than angels are. And more in brain + Than man, I hold thee. Sooth, yet taints thee still + One touch of womankind. And since so chill + She finds her babes, must I forego my vow? + For one flaw, Hope's clear crystal break? Oh, how + Ally her cause with mine! So doth she long + For human love--a baby hand is strong + To hurl my empire down. From her soft heart + Red, baby lips can drain revenge, and start + Unbidden tears. And pity wakes to life + When 'mong dead embers she sits lone, and strife + Is done. + "Then, at Regret's dull heels, lo, fast, + Retrieving follows. Happy days long past + She will recall. If so for love she yearn, + Back to her early home once more will turn, + Pardoning her wilful lord. And he again + Shall win the woman I so love, and fain + Would hold forever. Lilith, thou one balm + Of my lost soul in all this world! Shall calm + My sufferings, or love me, any one, save thee, + When thou in Adam's arms forgettest me? + My only love! Nay, then, 'twere surely wise + To shut these baby faces from her eyes, + New seeds of wrath to sow, her hate so feed + That all her rankling wounds afresh shall bleed. + And in her ears 'Good Adam!' will I cry, + Lest she forget Eden she lost thereby. + Yea, 'Adam!' I will laugh. Till her red lips with guile + O'erflow. And she shall curse him loud. With subtlest wile + Safe won, then shall she ever be mine own. + Soul-bound to me in hate, more terrible than death + In hate, that long outlasts Love's puny breath-- + O cunning craft, that with the self-same blow + Forever wins my love, and smites my foe! + + "Last night, when Lilith slept, lest I might mar + Her dreams, from our green couch I rose, and far + Passed silent. Know I not the spell that draws + My feet unwilling, Edenward. Its laws + I may not brave to rend my foe. Nor there + The Angel pass, unseen. The night so fair, + As prone among the glistening leaves I lay, + On Adam shone. Not sad, as on a day + Erstwhile he seemed. And I could almost swear + The sound of silvery laughter on the air + Fell soft. And a fleet footfall 'mong the flowers + Scattered the dew. Yet 'mid those silent bowers + Naught else I saw or heard save rippling flow + Of waters, and the moonshine white. Oh, low + Speak, Eblis, lest aloud the night may tell + Thy secret to the stars. Yet it were well + If lies the hidden cure for Lilith's woe + Close shut in Paradise. + "All would we know, + If we, close hid without those verdant walls, + Together watched. What fate soe'er befalls + I care not, if with me she bide." + Down bent + He o'er her hair, thick with the night-dew sprent. + Soft kissed it, crying, "Love, the morn shines bright. + Waken, my Lilith, now. Through lands of night + Our happy course afar doth ever wend; + Past smiling shores where mighty rivers bend, + Past cove and cape and isle, and winding bay + And still blue mists, that hang athwart the day." + Thereat she rose, and joyously they sped + By broad lagoons where musky odors shed + New blooms. About them coiled long wreaths of vine, + And slim lianas drooped, and marish lichens fine. + And fared they on o'er many a slanting beach + And mountain crest; past many an open reach + And forest wild--till over Paradise + They saw the stars, clear, tender, loving, rise. + Then 'neath the screen of those rose-girdled walls + They hid without, listing the waterfalls, + Or bird belated, twittering to its nest. + So still the spot, the very grass to rest + Seemed hushed. + The garden-close, a clinging rose o'ercrept. + Its lustrous stem without that drooping swept + Thick set with buds as tintless as the snows + On sunless hills, when wild the north wind blows. + + Lilith a-tiptoe stood; upreaching, caught + The swaying boughs. Her eyes with longing fraught + Close scanned her old deserted home. Then came + Upon her spirit sadness, as if blame + Unuttered breathed through those remembered glades + And touched the odors moist 'mong mirky shades. + With wistful gaze, she traced each bosky dell, + Each winding path. And sweet youth's memories fell + About her. + Then was she ware of Adam, slow + Pacing the pleasance-ways. With ruddy glow + Fresh shone his cheeks, and crisp his hair out-blown + By wanton winds. His lips were mirthful grown. + Once he made pause hard by the coppice green + That hid the watcher. Once the leafy screen + So near he passed, from the overhanging edge + He brushed a rose. The hindering hedge + Quick through, in sudden blessing slim white hand + Fain had she reached. "O Eden mine! Dear land," + She sighed. And springing warm the tender tide + Of teardrops gemmed the roses at her side. + + So greets the weary wanderer once more + His early home. The lintels worn, the door + Age-stained; the iris clumps, in sheltered nook; + The mill-wheel rotting o'er the shrunken brook; + The sunny orchard, sloping west; and far + And cold, above his mother's grave, a star-- + Then quick unbidden tears, the heart's warm rain, + O'erflow his soul, and leave it pure again. + So Lilith backward turned to holier days, + Watching through misty tears where trod those ways + Her feet in other times. + Sudden and sweet + Came down those paths a glimpse of flying feet; + A sound of girlish laughter smote the air. + In jealous rage, Lilith uprose to dare + The guarding Angel's wrath. But, silver clear, + The mocking laugh of Eblis caught her ear. + "Thou hast forgot," he said, "this peaceful land, + Living, thou canst not enter." + But her hand + Grasped once again the roses' shining strand, + And 'neath her guileful touch, like scarlet flame + The snowy flowers burned. So, first Earth's shame + Around them set the spikd thorns. + Long there + Pale Lilith looked, as coldly still and fair + As carven stone. Then, with a fierce despair, + A sense of utter loss, downbending there, + With fingers hot she tore the hedge apart + And laid thereto her face. With sorer smart + She gazed again. For now, the twain at rest + Were laid. Pure as a dream, Eve's sinless breast + A babe close pressed. One pink foot, small and warm, + Among the leaves was hid. One dimpled arm + Aneath her head. + Low Eblis sneered. "I wot + In young Eve's arms my Lilith is forgot. + Oh, soon," he said, "these earth-worms changeful turn-- + From the oped rose when red the shut buds burn." + But wild eyes on the babe she fixed. "Oh, blind," + She cried, "was I. Yea, if the wanton wind + Doth mock, I will not chide. Was it for this + I wandered far, and bartered Eden's bliss? + For this have lost the very bloom of life? + So Adam comfort finds, not knowing strife! + Look you, that fragile thing at Adam's side-- + I heed her not. But Lilith is denied + The treasure she so careless doth possess. + See how the babe, scarce waking, doth caress + The mother! Look! Oh, hear the mother croon + Above her child! Ah, Eblis, love, I swoon-- + I shall not know such joy. Alas, to me + No babe shall come! Accursd may she be, + Cursed Adam too. Thrice heavy on the head + Of this poor babe my wrong be visited." + So, trembling, she brake off. + "Fast fades the light, + Sweet love. Once more to our dark realm of night + Let us return," he said. + As on fared they + With merry jest, Eblis gan cheer the way. + "Nay, otherwhiles mirth pleased," she said. "Knowest thou + What name she bears, who dwells in Eden now? + When Lilith went, long tarried Adam lone?" + She said. Replied he, "All to me is known + Since that same hour you parted. What befell, + To thee as we wend onward I will tell. + + "Calm morn in Eden streaked the skies with red, + And flushed the waiting hills above the grassy bed + Where Adam, joyless, saw new rise the sun, + Unwinding golden webs night-vapors spun + Athwart low meads. Slow, droning murmurs sent + The waking bees, with bloom and fragrance blent. + Unheeded poured her music blithesome Day + The reedy brooks beside and shallows gray. + For lone to Adam seemed the place, and cold; + The landscape dumb, as one aneath the mould. + For Lilith's sake, no more was Eden fair. + Bloomless the days, the nights bowed down with care. + Oft pacing pathways dim, he saw the gleam + Of strange-faced flowers beside the purling stream, + Or toyed with circling leaves; or plucked the grass, + And watched through rifted trees the clouds o'erpass; + Wide roaming, heard the waters idly break + Far 'gainst the curving beach. + "And grieving, spake, + 'Oh, sweet with thee each hour--each wilding way, + And sweet the memory of each gathered spray. + Could you not wait, dear love? Or come once more? + Yea, 'till you come, vain doth great Nature pour + Her richest gifts.' He paused, and heard alone + Respondent fall, the wood-dove's plaintive moan, + And the spent winds among the scented glades. + Moss-couched beneath the glinting forest shades, + He gazed, when shadows o'er the hills crept light, + Quick vanishing, like phantom fingers white, + Until on mead, and mere, and sounding shore + Eden found voice, sad plaining, 'Never-more!' + Long time he pondered on blue peaks remote + When slow, as stranded ships that listless float, + Moved by the sunset clouds. Or the white rack + Swept o'er the garden walls. + "'Would I their track + Might take,' he said, 'Lilith, so long you stay. + Whom my soul follows sorrowing--alway.' + Thus ever mourned he, comfortless; that so + In after days the Master, in the glow + Of morning-tide, the mother of the race + Gave for his solacement. + "Oh, fair the face + Young Eve bent o'er his sleep. Ere down the glade + The startled fawn leaps swift, her glance dismayed + Questions the hunter, mute. Such eyes--so brown, + So soft, so winning, shy--that looked adown + When Adam waked. Like vagrant tendrils, tossed + Dark hair about her brows. And quaintly crossed + Her hands upon her breast. Less red the dart + That deepest cleaves the folded rose's heart, + Than her round cheeks. Not hers the regal air + Of Lilith lost, the white arms, lissom, bare, + The slender throat; the elbows dimpled deep, whereto + Might scarcely reach Eve's head. + "Yet soft, as through + Some pleasant dream, the summer's spicy air + Stirs odorous 'mong seaward gardens fair, + In southland hid; so, gently, Eve straightway + To Adam's life unbidden came, to stay + Forever there. Sure entrance then made she + Into that heart untenanted by thee. + "So, to some olden house, from whose shut doors + One went erewhile, another comes. Its floors + All empty sees. The lowly threshold worn, + The moss-grown roof, the casements left forlorn. + Amid the shadows round about him stands, + Missing the footsteps passed to other lands, + And whispers tenderly, 'Since here no more + The owner bides, what harm if on the floor + I pass? Good chance it were the clambering vine + About the porch with fingers deft to twine-- + To draw the curtains, ope the door. For who + May know how soon these paths untended, through, + He comes again, with weary, way-worn feet, + Who made aforetime, other days so sweet. + Wherefore, I enter now. For whose dear sake + These vacant rooms, white, fragrant, clean, I make. + And when, world-wearied, he returns, we twain + Perchance together bide. Nor part again.' + So Eve found refuge. Tender love, the spell + Whereby she ruled. Peaceful the pair did dwell. + Fast fled the happy years, till softly laid + In her glad arms the babe--a winsome maid." + He ended there. Between them silence deep + Fell, as they journeyed. And the furthest steep + They crossed, that o'er their shadow-world rose high. + Then saw they level plains, their home, anigh. + And now, seeking her pleasance once again, + They came to their own land. But all in vain + His care. Silent she was, and oft did grieve, + Till Eblis wrathful cried: "Because this Eve + Adam holds dear, art mourning? Still dost yearn + To mate his sordid soul? Or wouldst thou turn + From summer land to Eden walls? + "The man + Belike, ne'er loved thee. So is it young Eve can + His pulses sway. Is she not passing fair? + Her fancies wild, it is her daily care + To bend beneath his ever fickle will. + Red-lipped and soft, she deftly rules him still, + Though he wist not. Yet sweeter Lilith's frown + Than archest smile she wears. Great Soul! The crown + Thou bearest of fadeless life. For fleeting dreams + In Paradise, beside the winding streams, + Wilt thou resign such boon? Thou art, in sooth, + Of mold too firm for Adam's love. In truth + A prince--though fallen--consorts best with thee + Say which were wise, with Eden's lord to be, + Or, shining high, the purer soul, the star + That fadeless burns, and Eblis lights afar? + Were it not grand through endless spaces hurled + With me to drive, above a shrinking world + Our chariot, wide? + "For I foresee when dawn + Dark days upon our foes, and hope is gone. + Wherefore, my Lilith, now, as seems thee good, + Make choice." Thereat she, turning where she stood, + With kisses hung about his neck, and smiled, + Crying, "Thine, Eblis, thine!" So were they reconciled. + + + + + BOOK V. + + + And Lilith oft to Paradise returned, + For fierce within her, bitter hatred burned, + And better, dearer, seemed revenge than aught + She else desired. The coppice oft she sought, + Much hoping direful evil might be wrought + Upon the love that bloomed in Eden. + Wide + Oft strayed fair Eve; the little maid, beside, + Plucking the lotus; or by sedgy moats, + From ribbed papyrus broad, frail fairy boats + Deft fashioning. Or Adam, watching, smiled, + With flowery wreaths engarlanding the child. + And laughed the pair, intent on pleasant toil, + When blithe the child upheaped her fruity spoil-- + Great globes of red and gold. Or roguish face + O'er feathery broods, or in the further space + To count the small blue eggs, she sportive bent; + And far her restless feet swift glancing went. + It chanced one day she watched the careless flight + Of vagrant butterflies, that circled light + Uncertain, high, above a copse rose-wreathed; + Then soft down-dropping, gaudy wings they sheathed + Beside a darkling pool. The copse anear + With yellow buds was strewn. And softly here + She crept, deeming her little half-shut hand + Might snare the fairest of that gleaming band. + Yet ere she touched it, wide its wings outspread + In flight. + + And still she, swift pursuing, sped + Among the groves, till wearied, slept the maid + Deep in the mid-day shadows, lowly laid. + + Without, stooped Lilith. And with fingers swift, + Among the leaves she oped a small green rift, + That she might see the child. The hedge was wet + With starry blooms. Whereto her hand she set + When she awaked, seeing each dainty frond + Of fragrant ferns, dusk mirrored in the pond. + The child came near the copse, much wondering: + From glossy stems the smooth leaves sundering. + And stooping o'er the rift, she saw there, low + Against the hedge, a face like drifted snow, + And soft eyes, blue as violets show + Above the brooks; and hair that downward rolled + Upon the ground in glittering strands of gold. + Mute stood the maid, naught fearing, but amazed. + Then nearer drew, and lingering, she gazed + In those blue orbs. And smiling as she knelt, + The stranger quickly loosed her shining belt + Of gems. Flawless each stone whose pallid gleam + Lit silent nooks, or slept by far-off stream + Unheeded--pale pearls with shimmering light, + From distant oceans plucked, blue sapphires bright, + And diamonds rosy-cold, and burning red + The rubies fine, and yellow topaz shed + Its sultry glow, jasper, dull onyx white, + Sardonyx, rare chalcdon, streaked with light. + Against her white breast that bright zone she laid, + Then stretched it, flashing forth, toward the maid, + And clasped it round her throat. + A luring strain + She sung, sweet as the pause of summer rain. + So soft, so pure her voice, the child it drew + Still nearer that green rift; and low there-through + She laughing stroked the down-bent golden head + With her soft baby hands. And parting, spread + The silken hair about her little face, + And kissed the temptress through the green-leaved space. + Whereat fell Lilith snatched the babe and fled, + Crying, as swift from Eden's bounds she sped, + And like a fallen star shone on her breast + The child, "At last! at last! thy peaceful rest + Ere long will cease. O helpless mourn, frail Eve, + Uncomforted. O hapless mother, grieve, + Since Lilith far from thee thy babe doth bear! + She leaves thy loving arms, thy tender care. + Nor canst thou follow anywhere my flight, + When far we go athwart the falling night. + Ah, little babe, close-meshed in yellow hair + Thou liest pale! Fear not, thou art so fair, + Much comfort lives in thee." + So ended she, + And onward, hostile lands among, passed fleet + Blue solitudes afar, till paused her feet, + Where highest 'mong hoar climbing peaks, uprose + A mountain crest. + It was the third day's close. + In those untrodden ways there was no sound, + No sight of living thing, the barren heights around. + No hum of insect life, no whirring wing of bird. + Bare rocks alone, all fissured, blotched and blurred + As with red stain of battle-fields unseen. + Far, far below, still vales were shining green. + And leaping downward swift, a mountain stream + Crept soft to sleep, where meadow grasses dream. + Wan, wayworn, there, the babe upon her knee, + Lilith sat down. "O Eve," she said, "on me + The child smiles sweet! Fondle her silken hair + If now thou canst, or clasp her small hands fair. + Thou hast my Paradise. Lo, thine I bear + Afar from thee. See, then! Its transient woe + Thy babe e'en now forgets; and sweet and low + It babbles on my knee. In sooth, not long + Endure her griefs, and through my crooning song + She kisses me, recalling not the place + Whence she has come. Nay, nor her mother's face." + Long time stayed Lilith in that land. More calm + Each day she grew, for soft, like healing balm, + The child's pure love fell on her sin-sick soul. + Now oft among the crags, fleet-footed, stole + The maid, or lightly crossed the fertile plain. + And blithesome sang among the growing grain + That brake in billowy waves about her feet. + But when the wheat full ripened was, and sweet, + She plucked and ate. Thereat a shadowy pain, + A sense of sorrow, stirred that childish brain, + She wist not why. For it did surely seem + Before her waking thought, with pallid gleam + Of other days, dim pictures passed; of wood + And stream, beyond these mountain rims. And stood, + It seemed, midway a garden wide, a tree that bright + Like silver gleamed, and broad boughs light + Uplifted. Like ripened wheat the fruit thereon, + When low the westering sun upon it shone. + Then slow the maid did turn, and silent stand + At Lilith's side. And o'er that mountain land, + Down-looking, mused. Or lifted pensive eyes, + And gaze that questioned if in any wise + She might perceive the land she longing sought; + But of its stream, or garden, saw she naught. + Thereat Lilith with white lips drew more near, + And clasped in her lithe arms the child so dear. + And once again fled swift, a shadowy shape, + Across green fields. And heard, through silence, break + A voice she could not hush, that loudly wailed, + "My babe! Give me my babe!" + And Lilith paled, + And listening, heard, borne ever on the wind, + The tread of feet fast following behind. + Then westward turned, where once among new ways + With Eblis she had trod in other days, + When far they wandered. Thitherward she bent + Her timid steps, the babe upon her breast, + Until with travel worn her noontide rest + She took. And now a land of alien blooms + About them lay, outwafting strange perfumes. + And quaint defiles, that sloped behind a bay; + And level fields; and curly vines that lay + Thick clustered o'er with unripe fruit; and bent + Above them fragrant limes and spicy scent + Of citron and of myrtle all the place + Made sweet, and 'mid the trees, an open space + They saw. + Not far away a broad lagoon + Burned like a topaz 'neath a crescent moon, + For day was parting. Even-tide apace + Drew on, and chill the night dews filled the place. + Upon the waters dusky shadows clung, + And ashen-gray the broad leaves drooping hung; + Low 'mong the marish buds lay one that made + Against the sudden dusk a duskier shade-- + Despairing arms upflinging to the sky, + Smiting the silence with unheeded cry-- + "O mother, childless! Wife--of all bereft! + Alas, my babe, not even thou art left + To comfort me, in these last hopeless days, + Shut out from Paradise. Through unknown ways + I sought thee sorrowing. Oh, once again, + My Adam, come! Is not this gnawing pain + Of punishment enow, that thou unkind + Art grown? Ah, never more shall I thee find? + Alas, I ever was but weak. Alone + I cannot live. Come but again, mine own. + No longer leave me mourning, desolate. + In tears I call thee. Oh, in tears I wait + Thy sweet, forgiving kiss!" + Ended she so + Her plaint. And 'mong the glistening leaves hid low, + Lilith yet fiercer clasped the child + When that lorn mother, tear-stained, weeping, wild, + Poured forth her woe. + As one that wakes to life + From peaceful dreams, leaps quick amid the strife + Of morning hours, so now the maid to pass + From Lilith's arms strove hard. And loosed her clasp, + And turned her shadowed face with plaintive moan + And fond beseeching eyes, where lay her mother lone. + But Lilith hardening, seized the child again, + And from her ears shut out the mother's pain + With wilful hands. + So passed she quick away. + Across the dusky path, low fallen, lay + Pale Eve, till clear she saw the dawn's pure ray, + And as she looked, the voice of one she heard + Anigh. Her heart to sudden joy was stirred. + "Rise up, mine own," he said, "no more apart + We walk." Then she arose, and cried, "Dear heart, + Close hold me. So! Methinks I dreamed we were + Parted long time." + So went, the exiled pair + From home thrust out, together--everywhere. + And oft they journeyed on with sufferings spent + To distant lands. And oft with labor bent + Recalled the olden home, with brimming eyes, + Hemmed in by mountains blue--lost Paradise. + + Meanwhile, to her own realm Lilith long since + Was come, glad greeting Eblis. "O my prince, + I have most bravely done. Our foes full sore + Are smitten now. My guerdon o'er and o'er + Thou wilt bestow, I ween, in kisses warm + As my own southland's breath. For I great harm + Have wrought that hated pair. With feeble moan + Lies Eve in a far land, thrust out. Alone, + Deserted. And whence angered Adam flies + I know not. Nay, nor what new world his eyes + Behold. Nor even if he live. + "But see! + Sleeps on my breast the babe--Eve's babe. And she + Shall know no more its tender, sweet caress, + Soft medicining woe. The wilderness + Uncheered by love, is hers." + And by the sea, + Peaceful abode, long time content, the three, + Save that the child unmurmuring drooped. + Then oft above her Lilith, singing, stooped, + Striving to wake the baby smiles again + About her wee, warm mouth. Vain wiles! And vain + Her loving skill. All still she lay, and pale. + As one at sea pines for a lonely vale + Besprent with cuckoo flowers; the faint wild breath + Of cradled buds, among the cloven elms, and saith, + 'I shall not see that place beyond the seas, + Nor any more pluck red anemones + In windless nooks.' + So seemed the child, and frail + As one that weeps above dead joys. Then pale + Grew Lilith as those wasting lips she pressed + And kissed the filmy eyes, and kissing, blessed + The child. + But Eblis touched the hand so worn, + The faded, wasted face. "Happy, thou mother lorn, + Unseeing her," he said. "This fragile thing + To-day lies on thy breast. To-morrow's wing + Hath brushed it from thy sight." Low Lilith sighed: + "My Eblis, is this death?" And louder cried, + "But thou art wise, and sure some hidden way + From this sore hap canst find. O Eblis, say, + Hast thou no spell whereby the child may live? + O love, my realm thy recompense I give, + If she be healed." + "Nay; not Archangel's craft + Stays fleeting life, or turns Death's nimble shaft," + He said. "Yet if," she mused, "I laid again + The child in young Eve's arms, like summer rain, + The mother's love may yet restore again + This shriveled life. And yet, must I resign + The babe? Alas, my little one! Nay, mine + No more!" Weeping she ceased. + But after, bore + The child far northward; the exiled pair o'er + Many lands long seeking. Till from a crest + Of barren hills Lilith looked down. At rest, + The twain she saw, for it was eventide. + And low they spoke of hidden snares beside + Their unknown path, since unaware fared they + Into this hostile spot. The dim wolds lay + All bare beneath chill stars. And far away + Were belts of pine, and dingy ocean shore, + Like wrinkled lip. Cold was the land, and hoar + With wintry rime. Near by, its leafless boughs + A thorn bush bent, with withered berries red. + At sight thereof Adam, rejoicing, said, + "My Eve, bide here. From yonder friendly tree + The ripe fruit I will pluck and bring to thee." + "Oh, leave me not! This solitude I fear; + The land about is chill," she said, "and drear + It seems to me." But Adam answered, "Nay, + Sore famished art thou, and not far away + It is--nor long I stay." + So parted he. + Not long alone was Eve. Upstarted she + Dismayed. A woman, most exceeding fair, + Beside her stood, with coils of yellow hair, + And blue eyes, calm as sleep among the hills' + Dim lakes. Eve, frighted, shrank. As mountain rills, + Sweet fell the stranger's words. "My sister, one + Is here that glad salutes thee. And since done + Is now my quest, and here my journey ends, + I bring a goodly gift. For elsewhere wends + My pathway, Eve. + "Beside a coppice green, + Brighter than gold, purer than silver sheen, + In a fair garden, once a jewel shone. + With it, compared in all the world, no stone. + And low the Master set it shining clear + Against the hedge, saying, 'When she draws near + She will perceive on whom I do bestow + This moteless gem, that fellow doth not know.' + "Now I without the copse that day was hid. + Soft shone the jewel, as the moon amid + The blue. And in the garden I saw thee, + Where in the midst stood a fair wheaten tree + As emerald green. Its ears, as rubies red, + Fragrant as breath of musk, its odors spread. + And white its shining grains as rifted snow. + I looked again. And in thy fair hand, lo, + Full ripe bright gleamed the yellow wheaten grain. + Thou saidst, 'Though I did eat, I live. No pain + Hath marred this pleasant feast.' + "Then I the more + Desired thy gem. 'All things most goodly pour + On Eve their gifts. But I am famished lone,' + I said. And still against the hedge the stone + Rayed like a frozen tear the pure Night shed-- + The which with trembling hand I seized, and fled + Afar. + "But now upon my soul weighs sore + A dream. A voice called loud, 'Straightway restore + To Eve that which is hers; lest I, that bright + Set it against the hedge, will quench its light. + Yea, I will crumble it and quickly smite + It into dust e'en from thy hand.' Mine eyes + I careless closed. But yesternight 'Arise!' + The stern voice cried. 'Stay not at all. For lo, + I wait not. Lest I scourge thee sorely, go!' + Ah, Eve, though long upon my heart I wore + This jewel rare, behold, I now restore + Thine own!" + Then Eve cried loud, "Ere my heart break, + Give me my babe! Where is she, for whose sake + I sorrowed all these years--the little maid?" + She said, through tender sobs. + And Lilith laid + Apart upon her breast her garment, dyed + In blended hues. And stooping at Eve's side, + Gave back the child. + As one that ending quest + Most perilous, safe harbor sees--at rest + Among green hills--and enters glad therein, + So Lilith was. + So passed she once again + Into her land. + But Eve, like rain + Long pent, upon the child poured swiftly down + Sweet kisses. And again, twixt laugh and frown + Divided, smoothed the baby face, and through + Her fingers soft the silken hair she drew, + And kissed again. + And with a vague surprise + Recalled the stranger's smile, the mournful eyes, + Much marveling whence she fared. And said, "As pale + She seemed as bramble-blooms in Eden's vale." + + When homeward Adam came, the child she set + Upon his knee, saying, "Erewhile I met + An angel. So to me she seemed, as there + She stood. So tall, so yellow-haired, so fair; + And lo, she brought again the babe." + Therewith + She ended low. "Doubtless an angel, love, sith + So you deem her," he replied. And mused on all + Eve told. + And watching, saw a shadow fall + Upon the child. And later, did recall + Those words, sad pondering "so fair, so tall." + But nothing uttered. + + In that land long time + They lingered. And the child slow faded, till + One day Eve frighted cried, "See, Adam, still + She lies! Ah, little one, unseal those eyes! + Rouse but awhile, ere waning daylight flies!" + For she discerned not yet its doom, nor knew + The hour was near. + But Adam, parting, drew + Beneath the thorn, lest he might see the child. + And all the lone hours through Eve, babbling, smiled + Adown. And blew her warm breath o'er the cheeks + So wan. "The night grows cold," she said. "Sleep creeps + Dull on my babe. The night grows cold and chill," + She said. + Nor dreamed aneath those lids closed still, + The death film hung. + A wind uprose, and swept + Among the dry leaves heaped, where lowly slept + The child. Cold grew the night and colder, till + Against the east the dawn glowed daffodil, + Above dun wolds white with new-fallen snow. + So rose the day and widened into morning glow + With rosy tints o'erstreaked, and faintly blurred + With flecks of cloud. + Still lay the child, nor stirred. + Dumb Eve looked down, nor knew Death's pallid masque, + And strove to wake the maid. In vain. Her task + Was done. And as she gazed, a gentle grasp + Soft loosed the dead from that cold mother's clasp, + And Lilith laid the babe in its chill bed-- + Straightened the limbs, and kissed the little head. + And o'er the sleeper, kneeling, she did lean. + Forth from her breast she drew, close folded, green, + A sheath of leaves, bright shining, lustrous--wet + With tears--that in those waxen hands she set. + Then those shut leaves oped slow. And low and frail + Bloomed 'mid the tintless snows a snow-drop pale. + Soft Lilith said, "For this pale sleeper's sake, + O Eve, one kiss bestow. E'en thou canst take + Pity on me. For thee new, happy days await, + But I--I am forever desolate. + For thee fresh love will bloom above this mould; + For thee, in coming years, pure lips unfold; + But I--no more, no more, shall feel the warm + Breath 'gainst my breast. Nay, nor the baby arm + Soft clasping me. Nor see the feet that pass + Like falling music, through the waving grass. + Therefore, one pardoning kiss give e'er I go + To my own land, beyond this realm of snow." + And Eve, uprising, took the hand she gave, + And weeping, kissed; and parted by that grave. + + Stood Adam, after-time, by that small mound. + Low at their feet a sheaf of leaves Eve found, + Wherein white flowers shone. "Oh, like," she said, + "To this was one abloom within the bed + Where lies the child. And fair, O, passing fair, + She was, and tall, with yellow gleaming hair, + And cheeks soft flushed as fresh pomegranate bells; + And dewy eyes, like violets in the dells, + Who came. So, silent passed that stranger fair + Who loved our babe. And e'er I well was ware, + She vanished." + Otherwhiles, "Of alien race + She was," Eve said. "A princess, with a face + Surpassing fair, who trod the pathway bright + Among the mists, beyond the rim of night + To her own land." + And oft in after-time, + When Cain had lain in her young arms, and chime + Of voices round her came, and clasp of hands, + And thick with baby faces bloomed the lands, + Eve silent sat, remembering that one child + Among the snowdrops, in a Northern wild. + And Lilith dwelt again in her own land; + With Eblis still strayed far. And hand in hand + They talked; the while her phantom brood in glee + Laughed overhead. Then looking on the sea, + Low voiced, she sang. So sweet the idle song, + She said, "From Paradise, forgotten long, + It comes. An elfin echo that doth rise + Upward from summer seas to bending skies. + In coming days, from any earthly shore + It shall not fail. And sweet forever more + Shall make my memory. That witching strain + Pale Lilith's love shall lightly breathe again. + And Lilith's bitter loss and olden pain + O'er every cradle wake that sweet refrain. + My memory still shall bloom. It cannot die + While rings Earth's cradle-song--sweet lullaby." + + Slow passed dim cycles by, and in the earth + Strange peoples swarmed; new nations sprang to birth. + Then first 'mong tented tribes men shuddering spake + Dread tales of one that moved, an unseen shape, + 'Mong chilling mists and snow. A spirit swift, + That dwelt in lands beyond day's purple rift. + Phantom of presage ill to babes unborn, + Whose fast-sealed eyes ope not to earthly morn. + "We heard," they cried, "the Elf-babes shrilly scream, + And loud the Siren's song, when lightnings gleam." + Then they that by low beds all night did wake, + Prayed for the day, and feared to see it break. + + When o'er the icy fjords cold rise white peaks, + And fierce wild storms blot out the frozen creeks, + The Finnish mother to her breast more near + Draws her dear babe--clasps it in her wild fear + Still closer to her heart. And o'er and o'er + Through her weird song fall echoes from that lore + That lived when Time was young, e'er yet the rime + Of years lay on his brow. In that far prime + Nature and man, couched 'neath God's earliest sky, + Heard clear-voiced spheres chant Earth's first lullaby. + Now, in the blast loud sings the Finn, and long, + Nor knows that faint through her wild cradle-song + Yet sweetly thrills the vanished Elf-babes' cry, + Nor dreams, as low she croons her lullaby, + Still breathes through that sweet, lingering refrain + Lilith the childless--and to life again, + To love, she wakes. + The soft strain clearer rings + As through the gathering storm that mother sings: + + Pile the strong fagot, + Pale Lilith comes! + Wild through the murky air goblin voices shout. + Hark! Hearest thou not their lusty rout? + Lilith comes! + Listen, my babe! + + See how the dusk pines + Tremble and crouch; + Over wide wastes borne, white are the snow-wreaths blown, + And loud the drear icy fjords shudder and moan; + Lilith comes! + Listen, my babe! + + Ah! Hear the wild din, + Fierce o'er the linn, + The sea-gull, affrighted, soars seaward away, + And dark on the shores falls the wind-driven spray; + Lilith comes! + Listen, my babe! + + The shuddering ice + Shivers. It cracks! + Like a wild beast in pain, it cries to the wrack + Of the storm-cloud overhead. The sea answers back-- + Dread Lilith comes! + Listen, my babe! + + Near draws the wraith fair, + Dull gleams her hair. + Ah, strong one, so cruel--fierce breath of the North-- + The torches of heaven are lighting thee forth! + Fell Lilith comes! + Listen, my babe! + + Cold spirit of Snow, + Ah, I fear thee! + The sports of my hunter, the white fox, the bear, + The spoils of our rivers are thine. Ah, then spare, + Dread Lilith, spare + The babe at my breast! + + Mercy, weird Lilith! + Even sleeping, + My babe lies so chill. See, the reindeer I give! + Ah, lift thy dark wings, that my darling may live! + Pale Lilith comes! + Listen, my babe! + + Once, in the Northland, + Pale crocus grew + By half-wakened stream. It lay shriveled and low + Ere the spring-time had come, in soft shroud of snow. + Sad Lilith comes! + Listen, my babe! + + Foul Vampire, drain not + From my loved one + The life-current red. O Demon, art breaking + My heart while I plead? Ah, babe! Art thou waking? + Lilith, I live! + Closer my babe! + + Far o'er the dun wold, + Baby, behold + 'Mid the mist and the snow, fast, fast, and more fast-- + In the teeth of the blast--flies Lilith at last. + Pale Lilith flies! + Nearer, my babe! + + By Ganges still the Indian mother weaves + Above her babe her mat of plantain leaves, + And laughing, plaits. Or pausing, sweet and low + Her voice blends with the river's drowsy flow; + The while she fitful sings that old, old strain, + Forgetting that the love, the deathless pain + Of wandering Lilith lives and throbs again + When falls the tricksy Elf-babes' mocking cry + Faintly across her crooning lullaby-- + + Ah, happy babe, that here may sleep + Where the blue river winds along, + And sweet the trysting bulbuls keep + The night o'er-brimmed with pulsing song. + + Not so, mine own, as legends tell, + In lands remote, beyond the day, + The soulless babes of Lilith dwell, + Or vanish 'mong the cold mists gray. + + Or oft in elfin glee they ride + O'er burning deserts blown adrift, + Or singing idly, idly glide + Afar beyond Night's purple rift. + + But thou, my babe, for thee shall grow + The lilies, nodding by the stream; + For thee, the poppy's sleepy glow; + For thee, the jonquil's pallid gleam. + + My baby, sleep! Against the sky + The pippul lifts its trembling crest. + O baby, hush each wailing cry, + Close to the holy river's breast. + + Not here shall come that pale wraith fair, + Who, wandering once in Northern lands, + Bore o'er long reaches sere and bare + The death-flower white, for baby hands. + + Fear not, mine own, the Elf-babes shrill, + Nor Lilith tall, with brow of snow. + They may not haunt thy slumbers still + Where Ganges' sacred waters flow. + + Where coral reefs gnaw with white cruel teeth + The yellow surf, and the torn billows seethe-- + When shines the Southern Cross o'er placid isles, + The Afric mother sits, and singing, smiles, + Unheeding that a dead world's hidden pain + Beats wildly rhythmic through her pure refrain, + And lingers softly still an echoed sigh + Low in Earth's cradle-song--sweet lullaby. + A warning song of doom--a song of woe, + Of terror wild, she sings, down bending low, + The while bright gleams the Starry Cross above + Yet tells to her no tale of tender love + Of Him who lifteth after-time a cross + That healeth all the wide world's sin and loss. + + Ah, linger no longer 'mong blooms of the mangoes, + Nor pluck the bright shells by the low sighing sea, + Swift, swift, through the groves of the palms and acacias + Comes Lilith, the childless one, seeking for thee. + She will bind thee so fast in her yellow-gold hair-- + Ah, hasten, my children, of Lilith beware! + + Cold, cold are her cheeks as the spray of the wild sea, + Red, red are her lips as the pomegranate's bloom; + Cold, cold are the kisses the phantom will give thee, + Ah, cruel her kisses, that smell of the tomb. + Hist, hist! 'tis the sorceress with yellow-gold hair-- + Oh! lullaby, baby--of Lilith beware. + + She flies to the jungle, with false tales beguiling, + Ah, hear'st thou her elfin babes scream overhead! + Close, close in her strong arms she bears my babe, smiling; + She hath sucked the soft bloom from the lips of my dead. + Now far speeds the vampire, with yellow-gold hair-- + Oh! lullaby, baby--of Lilith beware! + + Art frighted, my baby? Nay, then, thy mother + Low singing enfolds thee all safe from the snare; + Afar flit the Elf-babes 'mid gray, misty shadows, + Afar flees the temptress with yellow-gold hair. + Ah, heed not her songs in the still slumbrous air-- + Oh! lullaby, baby--of Lilith beware! + + When hawthorn-trees sift thick their rifted snow, + The English mother o'er her babe sings low; + Where red the cross burns on the ivied fane, + Unwitting, pagan Lilith lives again-- + And softer sings, nor feels the wailing pain + Still faintly surging through that low refrain; + Nor dreams she hears Love's early cradle cry + Slow echoing through Earth's song--sweet lullaby-- + And in the shadow of that cross, her strain + Breathes sweetly; love, and hope, and ended pain. + Softlier while that small arm closely clings + About her heart, that mother peaceful sings: + + O babe, my babe, the light doth fade! + My baby, sleep, while I do keep + Close watch, where thou art lowly laid. + Sweet dreams shall steep thy slumber deep. + Ah, little feet, be still at last-- + Rest all the night, for day is past; + One watches thee from yon blue sky, + One watching here sings lullaby, + Lullaby; + Sings lullaby. + + Here on his bed the sunny head + Lies still; and soft the brown eyes close; + Sweet steals the breath, 'twixt lips as red, + As dewy fresh, as new-born rose. + O little lips, be hushed at last; + Fear naught, sweetheart, though day be past. + One looks adown from yon far sky, + One close beside, sings lullaby, + Lullaby; + Sings lullaby. + + + + +[Illustration] + +_"Ideal American magazines!"_ + +=It is a fact= acknowledged by the English press that American +magazines, by enterprise, able editorship, and liberal expenditure for +the finest of current art and literature, have won a rank far in advance +of European magazines. + +=It is also a fact= that for young people + +WIDE AWAKE + +_Stands foremost_ } _In pleasure giving!_ + } _In practical helping!_ + +Each year's numbers contain a _thousand quarto pages_, covering the +widest range of literature of interest and value to young people, from +such authors as John G. Whittier, Charles Egbert Craddock, Mrs. A. D. T. +Whitney, Susan Coolidge, Edward Everett Hale, Arthur Gilman, Edwin +Arnold, Rose Kingsley, Dinah Mulock Craik, Margaret Sidney, Helen Hunt +Jackson (H. H.), Harriet Beecher Stowe, Elbridge S. Brooks and hundreds +of others; and _half a thousand illustrations_ by F. H. Lungren, W. T. +Smedley, Miss L. B. Humphrey, F. S. Church, Mary Hallock Foote, F. +Childe Hassam, E. H. Garrett, Hy. Sandham and other leading American +artists. + +=ONLY $3.00 A YEAR. PROSPECTUS FREE.= + +WIDE AWAKE is the official organ of the C. Y. F. R. U. The Required +Readings are also issued simultaneously as the CHAUTAUQUA YOUNG FOLKS' +JOURNAL, with additional matter, at 75 cents a year. + + +=For the younger Boys and Girls and the Babies:= + +[Illustration] Our Little Men and Women, + +With its 75 full-page pictures a year, and numberless smaller, and its +delightful stories and poems, is most admirable for the youngest +readers. + +$1.00 _a year._ + + +[Illustration] Babyland + +Never fails to carry delight to the babies and rest to the mammas, with +its large beautiful pictures, its merry stories and jingles, in large +type, on heavy paper. + +50 _cts. a year._ + + +[Illustration] The Pansy, + +Edited by the famous author of the "Pansy Books," is equally charming +and suitable for week-day and Sunday reading. Always contains a serial +by "Pansy." + +$1.00 _a year._ + +[index] _Send for specimen copies, circulars, etc., to the Publishers,_ + +D. LOTHROP & CO., BOSTON, MASS., U. S. A. + + + + + "PANSY" BOOKS. + + +Probably no living author has exerted an influence upon the American +people at large, at all comparable with Pansy's. Thousands upon +thousands of families read her books every week, and the effect in the +direction of right feeling, right thinking, and right living is +incalculable. + +Each volume 12mo. Cloth. Price, $1.50. + +FOUR GIRLS AT CHAUTAUQUA. +CHAUTAUQUA GIRLS AT HOME. +RUTH ERSKINE'S CROSSES. +ESTER RIED. +JULIA RIED. +KING'S DAUGHTER. +WISE AND OTHERWISE. +ESTER RIED "YET SPEAKING." +LINKS IN REBECCA'S LIFE. +FROM DIFFERENT STANDPOINTS. +THREE PEOPLE. +HOUSEHOLD PUZZLES. +MODERN PROPHETS. +ECHOING AND RE-ECHOING. +THOSE BOYS. +THE RANDOLPHS. +TIP LEWIS. +SIDNEY MARTIN'S CHRISTMAS. +DIVERS WOMEN. +A NEW GRAFT. +THE POCKET MEASURE. +MRS. SOLOMON SMITH. +THE HALL IN THE GROVE. +MAN OF THE HOUSE. +AN ENDLESS CHAIN. + +Each volume 12mo. Cloth. Price, $1.25. + +CUNNING WORKMEN. +GRANDPA'S DARLING. +MRS. DEAN'S WAY. +DR. DEAN'S WAY. +MISS PRISCILLA HUNTER and +MY DAUGHTER SUSAN. +WHAT SHE SAID and +PEOPLE WHO HAVEN'T TIME. + +Each volume 16mo. Cloth. Price, $1.00. + +NEXT THINGS. +PANSY SCRAP BOOK. +FIVE FRIENDS. +MRS. HARRY HARPER'S AWAKENING. +NEW YEAR'S TANGLES. +SOME YOUNG HEROINES. + +Each volume 16mo. Cloth. Price, $.75. + +GETTING AHEAD. +TWO BOYS. +SIX LITTLE GIRLS. +PANSIES. +THAT BOY BOB. +JESSIE WELLs. +DOCIA'S JOURNAL. +HELEN LESTER. +BERNIE'S WHITE CHICKEN. +MARY BURTON ABROAD. +SIDE BY SIDE. + +Price, $.60. + +The Little Pansy Series, 10 vols. Boards, $3.00. Cloth, $4.00. +Mother's Boys and Girls' Library, 12 vols. Quarto Boards, $3.00. +Pansy Primary Library, 30 vol. Cloth. Price, $7.50. +Half Hour Library. Octavo, 8 vols. Price, $3.20. + + + + + By CHARLOTTE M. YONGE. + + +YOUNG FOLKS' HISTORY OF GERMANY, 12 mo. Cloth. $1.50 + " " " " GREECE, " " 1.50 + " " " " ROME, " " 1.50 + " " " " ENGLAND, " " 1.50 + " " " " FRANCE, " " 1.50 + " " " " BIBLE, " " 1.50 + +[index] _The above six volumes, are bound in Half Russia. Per vol._ 2.00 + + +THE LITTLE DUKE: Richard the Fearless. 12 mo. Cloth. 1.25 + +LANCES OF LYNWOOD: Chivalry in England. 12 mo. Cloth. 1.25 + +PRINCE AND PAGE: The Last Crusade. 12 mo. Cloth. 1.25 + +GOLDEN DEEDS: Brave and Noble Actions. 12 mo. Cloth. 1.25 + + +LITTLE LUCY'S WONDERFUL GLOBE. Sq. 16 mo. Cloth. 1.25 + + +[asterism] For sale by all Booksellers. Sent post-paid, on receipt of +price, by + +D. LOTHROP & CO., BOSTON, MASS. + + + + + MRS. DIAZ'S WRITINGS. + + +THE WILLIAM HENRY BOOKS. + +THE WILLIAM HENRY LETTERS. +WILLIAM HENRY AND HIS FRIENDS. +LUCY MARIA. + +Each in one 16mo volume, beautifully illustrated and bound. Price per +volume, $1.00. The set in a neat box, $3.00. + + +A STORY-BOOK FOR THE CHILDREN. + +Illustrated. 16mo. $1.00. + + +THE JIMMYJOHNS. POLLY COLOGNE. + +Each volume illustrated. 16mo. $1.00. + + +DOMESTIC PROBLEMS. + +WORK AND CULTURE IN THE HOUSEHOLD, AND THE SCHOOLMASTER'S TRUNK. + +Two volumes in one. Illustrated. 16mo. $1.00. + + +HOLIDAY BOOKS. + +CHRISTMAS MORNING. + +180 Illustrations. 12mo. Cloth, $1.50 Bds., $1.25. + + +KING GRIMALKUM AND PUSSYANITA; OR, THE CATS' ARABIAN NIGHTS. + +Illustrated. Quarto. Cover in colors. $1.25. + + +[asterism] _For sale by all Booksellers. Sent, postpaid, on receipt of +price, by_ + +D. LOTHROP & CO., 32 FRANKLIN STREET, BOSTON. + + + + + THE HOMESPUN SERIES. + + BY + + SOPHIA HOMESPUN. + + +RUTHIE SHAW: Or, _The Good Girl._ 16mo. Cloth. Illustrated. Price, +$1.00. + +MUCH FRUIT. 16mo. Cloth. Illustrated. Price $1.00. + +BLUE EYED JIMMY: _Or, The Good Boy._ 16mo. Cloth. Illustrated. Price, +$1.00. + +JOHNNY JONES: _Or, The Bad Boy._ 16mo. Cloth. Illustrated. Price, $1.00. + +NATTIE NESMITH: _Or, The Bad Girl._ 16mo. Cloth. Illustrated. Price, +$1.00. + + +Either or all of the above sent by mail, post-paid, on receipt of price. + +D. LOTHROP AND COMPANY. + +30 & 32 _Franklin St., Boston_ + +May be obtained of Booksellers. + + + + + WRITINGS OF ELLA FARMAN, + + EDITOR OF WIDE AWAKE. + + +Ella Farman teaches art no less than letters; and what is more than both +stimulates a pure imagination and wholesome thinking. In her work there +is vastly more culture than in the whole schooling supplied to the +average child in the average school.--_New York Tribune._ + +The authoress, Ella Farman, whose skilful editorial management of "Wide +Awake" all acquainted with that publication must admire, shows that her +great capacity to amuse and instruct our growing youth can take a wider +range. Her books are exceedingly interesting, and of that fine moral +tone which so many books of the present day lack.--_The Times, Canada._ + + +A LITTLE WOMAN. Illustrated. 12mo. $1.00 +A GIRL'S MONEY. Illustrated. 12mo. 1.00 +GRANDMA CROSBY'S HOUSEHOLD. Illustrated. 12mo. 1.00 +GOOD-FOR-NOTHING POLLY. Illustrated. 12mo. 1.00 +HOW TWO GIRLS TRIED FARMING. Illustrated. 12mo. 1.00 +COOKING CLUB OF TU-WHIT HOLLOW. Illustrated. 12mo. 1.25 +MRS. HURD'S NIECE. Illustrated. 12mo. 1.50 +ANNA MAYLIE. Illustrated. 12mo. 1.50 +A WHITE HAND. Illustrated. 12mo. 1.50 + + +The above set of nine volumes will be furnished at $10.00. + +[asterism] _For sale by all Booksellers. Sent by mail, post-paid, by_ + +D. LOTHROP & CO., FRANKLIN ST., BOSTON + + + + + BOOKS BY E. A. RAND. + + SCHOOL AND CAMP SERIES. + + +_Each volume, 12mo, price_, $1.25. + +This series gives the experience of "Big Brother" Dave Allen at the +Academy; Roy Allen in his dory, the _Sunbeam_, in Boston Harbor; Ruth +Atherton as teacher, and Beth Allen as pupil at the country schoolhouse, +Little Brown-Top. + +PUSHING AHEAD; OR, BIG BROTHER DAVE. +ROY'S DORY AT THE SEA-SHORE. +LITTLE BROWN-TOP, AND THE PEOPLE UNDER IT. + + +BARK CABIN SERIES. + +_Each volume, 12mo, price_, $1.00. + +Here we find the mountain camp-experience of the merry family, the +captain, his daughters, the vivacious Rob, and the irrepressible +servant-boy, Jule. + +BARK-CABIN ON MOUNT KEARSARGE. +THE TENT IN THE NOTCH. + + +AFTER THE FRESHET. + +12_mo, price_, $1.25. + +Arthur Manley whom a villain tries to ruin, is the hero of this book. + + + + + BOOKS + + SELECTED FROM + + D. Lothrop & Co.'s Catalogue. + + +John S. C. Abbott. + History of Christianity. 12mo, cloth, illust., $2.00. + +Nehemiah Adams. + At Eventide. 12mo, cloth, $1.25. + Agnes and the Little Key. 12mo, cloth, $1.00. + Bertha. 12mo, cloth, $1.00. + Broadcast. 12mo, cloth, $1.00. + Christ a Friend. 12mo, cloth, $1.00. + Communion Sabbath. 12mo, cloth, $1.25. + Catherine. 12mo, cloth, $1.25. + Cross in the Cell. 12mo, cloth, $1.00. + Endless Punishment. 12mo, cloth, $1.00. + Evenings with the Doctrines. 12mo, cloth, $1.00. + Friends of Christ, 12mo, cloth, $1.00. + Under the Mizzen-mast. 12mo, cloth, illust., $1.00. + +Lydia Maria Child. + Jamie and Jennie. 16mo, cloth, illust., $.75. + Boy's Heaven. 16mo, cloth, illust., $.75. + Making Something. 16mo, cloth, illust., $.75. + Good Little Mittie. 16mo, cloth, illust., $.75. + The Christ Child. 16mo, cloth, illust., $.75. + +Col. Russell H. Conwell. + Bayard Taylor. 12mo, cloth, illust., $1.50. + +Lizzie W. Champney. + Entertainments. 12mo, cloth, illust., $1.00. + +Abby Morton Diaz. + Story Book for children. 12mo, cloth, illust., $1.00. + William Henry and his Friends. 12mo, illust., $1.00. + William Henry Letters. 12mo, cloth, illust., $1.00. + Polly Cologne. 12mo, cloth, illust., $1.00. + Lucy Maria. 12mo, cloth, illust., $1.00. + The Jimmyjohns. 12mo, cloth, illust., $1.00. + Domestic Problems. 12mo, cloth, illust., $1.00. + King Grimalkum. 4to, boards, illust., $1.25. + Christmas Morning. 12mo, illust., b'ds, $1.25; cloth, $1.50. + +Julia A. Eastman. + Kitty Kent. 12mo, cloth, illust., $1.50. + Young Rick. 12mo, cloth, illust., $1.50. + The Romneys of Ridgemont. 12mo, illust., $1.50. + Striking for the Right. 12mo, cloth, illust., $1.75. + School Days of Beulah Romney. Illust., $1.50. + Short Comings and Long Goings. 12mo, $1.25. + +Ella Farman. + Anna Maylie. 12mo, cloth, illust., $1.50. + A Little Woman. 12mo, cloth, illust., $1.00. + A White Hand. 12mo, cloth, illust., $1.50. + A Girl's Money. 12mo, cloth, illust., $1.00. + Grandma Crosby's Household. 12mo, cloth, il., $1.00. + Good-for-Nothing Polly. 12mo, cloth, illust., $1.00. + How two Girls tried Farming. 12mo, paper, $.50; cloth, $1.00. + The Cooking Club. 12mo, cloth, illust., $1.25. + Mrs. Hurd's Niece. 12mo, cloth, illust., $1.50. + +A. A. Hopkins. + Waifs and their Authors. Plain, $2.00; gilt, $2.50. + John Bremm: His Prison Bars. 12mo, cloth, $1.25. + Sinner and Saint. 12mo, cloth, $1.25. + Our Sabbath Evening. 16mo, cloth, $1.25. + +E. E. Hale and Miss Susan Hale. + A Family Flight through France, Germany, Norway and Switzerland. + Octavo, cloth, illust., $2.50. + +Lothrop's Library of Entertaining History. + Edited by ARTHUR GILMAN. + + India, by FANNIE ROPER FEUDGE. 12mo, cloth, illust., $1.50; + half Russia, $2.00. + Egypt, by MRS. CLARA ERSKINE CLEMENT. 12mo, cloth, illust., $1.50; + half Russia, $2.00. + Spain, by PROF. JAMES H. HARRISON. 12mo, cloth, illust., $1.50; + half Russia, $2.00. + Switzerland, by MISS H. D. S. MACKENZIE. 12mo, cloth, illust., $1.50; + half Russia, $2.00. + +George MacDonald. + Warlock o' Glenwarlock. 12mo, cloth, illust., $1.75. + Seaboard Parish. 12mo, cloth, $1.75. + Thomas Wingfold, Curate. 12mo, illust., $1.75. + Annals of a Quiet Neighborhood. 12mo, $1.75. + Princess Rosamond. Quarto, board, illust., $.50. + Double Story. 12mo, cloth, illust., $1.00. + +George E. Merrill. + Story of the Manuscripts. 12mo, cloth, illust., $1.00. + Battles Lost and Won. 12mo, cloth, illust., $1.50. + +Elias Nason. + Henry Wilson. 12mo, cloth, illust., $1.50. + Originality. 16mo, cloth, $.50. + +Pansy. (Mrs. G. R. Alden.) + 12_mo_, _cloth_, $1.50 _Each._ + + A New Graft on the Family Tree. + Chautauqua Girls at Home (The). + Divers Women. + Echoing and Re-echoing. + Ester Ried. + Four Girls at Chautauqua. + From Different Standpoints. + Hall in the Grove. + Household Puzzles. + Julia Ried. + King's Daughter. + Links in Rebecca's Life. + Modern Prophets. + Pocket Measure (The). + Randolphs (The). + Ruth Erskine's Crosses. + Sidney Martin's Christmas. + Those Boys. + Tip Lewis and his Lamp. + Three People. + Wise and Otherwise. + + 12_mo_, _cloth_, $1.25 _Each._ + + Cunning Workmen. + Dr. Deane's Way. + Grandpa's Darlings. + Miss Priscilla Hunter and My Daughter Susan. + Mrs. Deane's Way. + Pansy Scrap Book. (Former title, the Teachers' Helper.) + What She Said, and What she Meant. + + + 12_mo_, _cloth_, $1.00 _Each._ + + Next Things. + Some Young Heroines. + Mrs. Harry Harper's Awakening. + Five Friends. + + 12_mo_, _cloth_, 75 cts. _Each._ + + Bernie's White Chicken. + Docia's Journal. + Getting Ahead. + Helen Lester. + Jessie Wells. + Six Little Girls. + That Boy Bob. + Two Boys. + Mary Burton Abroad. + + Pansy's Picture Book. 4to, board, $1.50; cloth, $2.00. + The Little Pansy Series. 10 volumes. Boards, $3.00; cloth, $4.00. + +Nora Perry. + Bessie's Trials at Boarding-school. 12mo, $1.25. + +Austin Phelps. + The Still Hour. 16mo, cloth, $.60; gilt, $1.00. + Work of the Holy Spirit. 16mo, cloth, $1.25. + +Edward A. Rand. + Roy's Dory. 12mo, cloth, illust., $1.25. + Pushing Ahead. 12mo, cloth, illust., $1.25. + After the Freshet. 12mo, cloth, $1.25. + All Aboard for Sunrise Lands. Illust., boards, $1.75; cloth, $2.25. + Tent in the Notch. 16mo, cloth, illust., $1.00. + Bark Cabin. 16mo, cloth, illust., $1.00. + +Margaret Sidney. + Five Little Peppers. 12mo, cloth, illust., $1.50. + Half Year at Bronckton. 12mo, cloth, $1.25. + Pettibone Name. 12mo, cloth, illust., $1.25. + So As by Fire. 12mo, cloth, illust., $1.25. + +Spare Minute Series. + Edited by E. E. BROWN. + Thoughts that Breathe. (Dean Stanley). $1.00. + Cheerful Words. (George MacDonald). $1.00. + The Might of Right. (W. E. Gladstone). $1.00. + True Manliness. (Thos. Hughes). 12mo, cloth, $1.00. + +Wide Awake Pleasure Book. + Edited by ELLA FARMAN. + Bound volumes A to M. Chromo cover, $1.50; full cloth, $2.00. + +T. D. Wolsey, D.D., LL. D. + Helpful Thoughts for Young Men. 12mo, $1.25. + +Kate Tannatt Woods. + Six Little Rebels. 12mo, cloth, illust., $1.50. + Doctor Dick. 12mo, cloth, illust., $1.50. + +C. M. Yonge. + 12mo, illustrated. + Young Folks' History of Germany. $1.50. + Young Folks' History of Greece. $1.50. + Young Folks' History of Rome. $1.50. + Young Folks' History of England. $1.50. + Young Folks' History of France. $1.50. + Young Folks' Bible History. $1.50. + Lances of Lynwood. 12mo, illust., $1.25. + Little Duke. 12mo, illust., $1.25. + Golden Deeds. 12mo, illust., $1.25. + Prince and Page. 12mo, illust., $1.25. + Little Lucy's Wonderful Globe. Boards, $.75; cloth, $1.00. + + + + + MARGARET SIDNEY'S BOOKS. + + +Margaret Sidney may be safely set down as one of the best writers of +juvenile literature in the country.--_Boston Transcript._ + +Margaret Sidney's books are happily described as "strong and pure from +cover to cover,... bright and piquant as the mountain breezes, or a dash +on pony back of a June morning." The same writer speaks of her as "An +American authoress who will hold her own in the competitive good work +executed by the many bright writing women of to-day." + +There are few better story writers than Margaret Sidney.--_Herald and +Presbyter._ + + +=Comments of the Secular and Religious Press=. + + +FIVE LITTLE PEPPERS AND HOW THEY GREW. + +A charming work.... The home scenes in which these little Peppers are +engaged are capitally described.... Will find prominent place among the +higher class of juvenile presentation books.--_Religious Herald._ + +One of the best told tales given to the children for some time ... The +perfect reproduction of child-life in its minutest phases, catches one's +attention at once.--_Christian Advocate._ + +A good book to place in the hands of every boy or girl.--Chicago +_Inter-Ocean._ + + +SO AS BY FIRE. + +Will be hailed with eager delight, and found well worth +reading.--_Christian Observer._ + +An admirable Sunday-school book--_Arkansas Evangel._ + +We have followed with intense interest the story of David Folsom ... A +man poor, friendless, and addicted to drink;... the influence of little +Cricket;... the faithful care of aunt Phebe; all steps by which he +climbed to higher manhood.--_Woman at Work._ + + +THE PETTIBONE NAME. + +It is one of the finest pieces of American fiction that has been +published for some time.--_Newsdealers' Bulletin_, New York. + +It ought to attract wide attention from the simplicity of its style, and +the vigor and originality of its treatment.--_Chicago Herald._ + +This is a capital story illustrating New England life.--_Inter-Ocean_, +Chicago. + +The characters of the story seem all to be studies from life.--_Boston +Post._ + +It is a New England tale, and its characters are true to the original type, +and show careful study and no little skill in portraiture.--_Christian +at Work_, New York. + +To be commended to readers for excellent delineations, sparkling style, +bright incident and genuine interest.--_The Watchman._ + +A capital story; bright with excellent sketches of character. Conveys +good moral and spiritual lessons ... In short, the book is in every way +well done.--_Illustrated Christian Weekly._ + + +HALF YEAR AT BRONCKTON. + +A live boy writes: "This is about the best book that ever was written or +ever can be." + +"This bright and earnest story ought to go into the hands of every boy +who is old enough to be subjected to the temptations of school life." + + +D. LOTHROP & CO., Publishers, Boston. + + + + + Books of the Celebrated Prize Series. + + +The preparation of this famous series was a happy inspiration. No books +for the young worthy of circulation have ever met so warm a welcome or +had a wider sale. The fact that each of them has passed the criticism of +a committee of clergymen of different denominations, men of high +scholarship, excellent literary taste, wide observation, and rare good +judgment, is a commendation in itself sufficient to secure for these +books the widest welcome. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Lilith + The Legend of the First Woman + +Author: Ada Langworthy Collier + +Release Date: February 23, 2008 [EBook #24679] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LILITH *** + + + + +Produced by Irma Spehar, Markus Brenner and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This +file was produced from images generously made available +by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.) + + + + + + +</pre> + + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 250px;"> +<img src="images/cover.jpg" width="250" height="392" alt="Cover" title="Cover" /> +</div> + +<h1><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[3]</a></span>LILITH</h1> + +<p class="subtitle">THE LEGEND OF THE FIRST WOMAN</p> + +<p class="by">BY</p> + +<p class="author">ADA LANGWORTHY COLLIER</p> + +<p class="publisher">BOSTON<br /> +D. LOTHROP AND COMPANY<br /> +<span style="font-size: small">FRANKLIN AND HAWLEY STREETS</span></p> + +<p class="copyright"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[4]</a></span> +<span class="smcap">Copyright,</span> 1885.<br /> +<span class="smcap">D. Lothrop & Company.</span> +</p> + + + + +<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[5]</a></span><a name="PREFACE" id="PREFACE"></a>PREFACE.</h2> + + +<div class="blockquote"><p>That Eve was Adam’s second wife was a common Rabbinic speculation. Certain +commentators on Genesis adopted this view, to account for the double +account of the creation of woman, in the sacred text, first in Genesis i. 27, and +second in Genesis xi. 18. And they say that Adam’s first wife was named Lilith, +but she was expelled from Eden, and after her expulsion Eve was created. Abraham +Ecchelensis gives the following account of Lilith and her doings: “There +are some who do not regard spectres as simple devils, but suppose them to be of +a mixed nature—part demoniacal, part human, and to have had their origin from +Lilith, Adam’s first wife, by Eblis, prince of the devils. This fable has been +transmitted to the Arabs, from Jewish sources, by some converts of Mohamet +from Cabbalism and Rabbinism, who have transferred all the Jewish fooleries to +the Arabs. They gave to Adam a wife formed of clay, along with Adam, and +called her Lilith, resting on the Scripture: ‘Male and female created He them.’”—<i>Legends +of the Patriarchs and Prophets.—Baring Gould.</i></p> + +<p>Lilith or Lilis.—In the popular belief of the Hebrews, a female spectre in the +shape of a finely dressed woman, who lies in wait for, and kills children. The old +Rabbins turned Lilith into a wife of Adam, on whom he begat demons and who +still has power to lie with men and kill children who are not protected by amulets +with which the Jews of a yet later period supply themselves as a protection against +her. Burton in his <i>Anatomy of Melancholy</i> tells us: “The Talmudists say that +Adam had a wife called Lilis, before he married Eve, and of her he begat nothing +but devils.” A commentator on Skinner, quoted in the <i>Encyclopædia Metropolitana</i>, +says that the English word <i>Lullaby</i> is derived from Lilla, abi (begone, +Lilith)! In the demonology of the Middle Ages, Lilis was a famous witch, and +is introduced as such in the Walpurgis night scene in Goethe’s “Faust.”—<i>Webster’s +Dictionary.</i></p> + +<p>Our word <i>Lullaby</i> is derived from two Arabic words which mean “Beware of +Lilith!”—<i>Anon.</i></p> + +<p>Lilith, the supposed wife of Adam, after she married Eblis, is said to have ruled +over the city of Damascus.—<i>Legends of the Patriarchs and Prophets.—Baring +Gould.</i></p></div> + +<p>From these few and meagre details of a fabled existence, +which are all that the author has been able to collect from +any source whatever, has sprung the following poem. The +poet feels quite justified in dissenting from the statements +made in the preceding extracts, and has not drawn Lilith as +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[6]</a></span>there represented—the bloodthirsty sovereign who ruled +Damascus, the betrayer of men, the murderer of children. +The Lilith of the poem is transferred to the more beautiful +shadow-world. To that country which is the abode of poets +themselves. And about her is wrapt the humanizing element +still, and everywhere embodied in the sweetest word the +human tongue can utter—<i>lullaby</i>. Some critics declare that +true literary art inculcates a lofty lesson—has a high moral +purpose. If poets and their work must fall under this rigorous +rule, then alas “Lilith” will knock at the door of +public opinion with a trembling hand indeed. If the poem +have either moral aim or lesson of any kind (which observe, +gentle critic, it is by no means asserted that it has), it is +simply to show that the strongest intellectual powers contain +no elements adverse to the highest and purest exercise of +the affectional nature. That, in its true condition, the noblest, +the most cultured intellect, and the loveliest, sublimest moral +and emotional qualities, together weave the web that clothes +the world’s great soul with imperishable beauty. The possessor +of highest intellectual capacity will be also capable of +highest developments in the latter qualities. The woman of +true intellect is the woman of truest affection. For the rest +let Lilith speak, whose life dropped unrecorded from the +earliest world. It is the poet’s hope that the chords of the +mother-heart universal will respond to the song of the +childless one. That in the survival of that one word <i>lullaby</i>, +may be revivified the pathetic figure of one whose home, +whose hope, whose Eden passed to another. Whose name +living in the terrors of superstitious peoples, now lingers in +Earth’s sweetest utterance. That Pagan Lilith, re-baptized +in the pure waters of maternal love, shall breathe to heathen +and Christian motherhood alike, that most sacred love of +Earth still throbbing through its tender lullaby.</p> + +<p class="signature">A. L. C.</p> + + + + +<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[7]</a></span><a name="TO_VALERIA" id="TO_VALERIA"></a>TO VALERIA.</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><span class="firstword"><span class="dropcap">B</span>roideries</span> and ancient stuffs that some queen<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Wore; nor gems that warriors’ hilts encrusted;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor fresh from heroes’ brows the laurels green;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Nor bright sheaves by bards of eld entrusted<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To earth’s great granaries—I bring not these.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Only thin, scattered blades from harvests gleaned<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Erewhile I plucked, may happen thee to please.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">So poor indeed, those others had demeaned<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Themselves to cull; or from their strong, firm hands<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Down dropped about their feet with careless laugh,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Too broken for home gathering, these strands,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Or else more useless than the idle chaff.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But I have garnered them. Yet, lest they seem<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Unworthy, and so shame Love’s offering,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Amid the loose-bound sheaf stray flowers gleam.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And fairer seeming make the gift I bring,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lilies blood-red, that lit the waving field,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And now are knotted through the golden grain.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou wilt not scorn the tribute I now yield,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Nor even deem the foolish flowers vain.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[8]</a></span><span class="i0">So take it, and if still too slight, too small<br /></span> +<span class="i1">It seem, think ’tis a bloom that grew anear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In other Springtime, the old garden wall.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">(That pale blue flower you will remember, dear.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The heedless world, unseeing, passed it by,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And left it to the bee and you.) Then say,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">“Because the hands that tended it are nigh<br /></span> +<span class="i1">No more, and little feet are gone away<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That round it trampled down the beaded grass,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Sweeter to me it is than musky spray<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Southland; and dearer than days that pass<br /></span> +<span class="i1">In other summer-tides.” This simple song<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Read so, dear heart; Nay, rather white-souled one,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Think ’tis an olden echo, wandered long<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From a low bed where ’neath the westering sun<br /></span> +<span class="i1">You sang. And if your lone heart ever said<br /></span> +<span class="i0">“Lo, she is gone, and cannot more be mine,”<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Say now, “She is not changed—she is not wed,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She never left her cradle bed. Still shine<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The pillows with the print of her wee head.”<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So, mother-heart, this song, where through still rings<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The strain you sang above my baby bed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I bring. An idle gift mayhap, that clings<br /></span> +<span class="i1">About old days forgotten long, and dead.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This loitering tale, Valeria, take.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Perchance ’tis sad, and hath not any mirth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet love thou it, for the weak singer’s sake,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And hold it dear, though yet is little worth,<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[9]</a></span><span class="i0">This tale of Elder-world: of earth’s first prime,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of years that in their grave so long have lain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To-day’s dull ear, through poets’ tuneful rhyme<br /></span> +<span class="i1">No echo hears, nor mocking friar’s strain.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1"><i>July</i> 17, 1884.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<!-- <p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[10]</a></span>[Blank Page]</p> --> +<!-- <p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[11]</a></span>BOOK I.</p> --> +<!-- <p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[12]</a></span>[Blank Page]</p> --> + +<p class="title"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[13]</a></span>LILITH.</p> + +<h2 style="margin-top: 1em"><a name="BOOK_I" id="BOOK_I"></a>BOOK I.</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><span class="firstword"><span class="dropcap">P</span>ure</span> as an angel’s dream shone Paradise.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Blue mountains hemmed it round; and airy sighs<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of rippling waters haunted it. Dim glades,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And wayward paths o’erflecked with shimmering shades,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And tangled dells, and wilding pleasances,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hung moist with odors strange from scented trees.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sweet sounds o’erbrimmed the place; and rare perfumes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Faint as far sunshine, fell ’mong verdant glooms.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In that fair land, all hues, all leafage green<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wrapt flawless days in endless summer-sheen.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bright eyes, the violet waking, lifted up<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where bent the lily her deep, fragrant cup;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And folded buds, ’gainst many a leafy spray—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The wild-woods’ voiceless nuns—knelt down to pray.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There roses, deep in greenest mosses swathed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Kept happy tryst with tropic blooms, sun-bathed.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No sounds of sadness surged through listening trees:<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[14]</a></span><span class="i0">The waters babbled low; the errant bees<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Made answer, murmurous; nor paled the hue<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The jonquils wore; nor chill the wild breath grew<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of daisies clustered white in dewy croft;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor fell the tasseled plumes as satin soft<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Upon the broad-leaved corn. Sweet all the day<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O’erflowed with music every woodland way;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And sweet the jargonings of nested bird,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When light the listless wind the forest stirred.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Straight as the shaft that ’gainst the morning sun<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The slender palm uprears, the Fairest one—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The first of womankind—sweet Lilith—stood,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A gracious shape that glorified the wood.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">About her rounded shoulders warm and bare,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like netted sunshine fell her lustrous hair;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The rosy flush of young pomegranate bells<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dawned on her cheeks; and blue as in lone dells<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sleep the Forget-me-nots, her eyes. With bent<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Brows, sullen-creased, swart Adam gazed intent<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Upon a leopard, crouched low in its place<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beneath his feet. Not once in Lilith’s face<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He looked, nor sought her wistful, downcast eyes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With shifting shadows dusk, and strange surprise.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">“O, Love,” she said, “no more let us contend!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So sweet is life, anger, methinks, should end.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In this, our garden bright, why dost thou claim<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ever the highest place, the noblest name?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Freely to both our Lord gave self-same sway<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[15]</a></span><span class="i0">O’er living things. Love, thou art gone astray!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Twin-born, of equal stature, kindred soul<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Are we; like dowed with strength. Yon stars that roll<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their course above, down-looking on my face,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">See yours as fair; in neither aught that’s base.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy wife, not handmaid I, yet thou dost say,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">‘I first in Eden rule.’ Thou, then, hast sway.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Must I, my Adam, mutely follow thee?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Run at thy bidding, crouch beside thy knee?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lift up (when thou dost bid me) timid eyes?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not so will Lilith dwell in Paradise.”<br /></span> +<span class="i0">“Mine own,” Adam made answer soft, “’twere best<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou didst forget such ills in noontide rest.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Content I wake, the keeper of the place.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of equal stature? Yea! Of self-same grace?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nay, Love; recall those lately vanished eves,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When we together plucked the plantain leaves;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yon leopard lowly stretched at my command<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Its lazy length beneath my soothing hand.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At thee she snarled, disdaining half, to sheathe<br /></span> +<span class="i0">’Neath thy soft pleading eyes her milk-white teeth.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oft, Love, in other times, in sheltered nook,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We scattered pearly millet by the brook.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lo thine lay barren in the sand. Quick mine<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Upspringing sifts o’er pale blooms odors fine:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hateful thy chidings grow; each breeze doth bring<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</a></span><span class="i0">Ever thy plaints—thy fretful murmuring.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">These many days I weary of thy sighs;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Know, Lilith, I alone rule Paradise.”<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thereat he rose, and quick at every stride<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The fawning leopard gambolled at his side.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">So fell the first dark shadow of Earth’s strife.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With coming evil all the winds were rife.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lone lay the land with sense of dull loss paled.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The days grew sick at heart; the sunshine failed;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And falling waters breathed in silvery moan<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A hidden ail to starlit dells alone—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As sometimes you have seen, ’neath household eaves,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">’Mong scents of Springtime, in the budded leaves,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The swallows circling blithe, with slant brown wing,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Home-flying fleet, with tender chattering,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And all the place o’errun with nested love—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So have you come, when leaves hung crisp above<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The silent door. Yet not again, I ween,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Those shining wings, cleaving the air, have seen<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor heard the gladsome swallows twittering there—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Only the empty nests, low-hung and bare,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Spake of the scattered brood.—So lonely were<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To Lilith grown her once loved haunts. Nor fair<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The starlit nights, slow-dropping fragrant dew,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor the dim groves when dawn came shifting through.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Far ’mong the hills the wood-doves’ moan she heard,<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[17]</a></span><span class="i0">Or in some nearer copse, a startled bird;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or the white moonshine ’mong green boughs o’erhead<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wrought her full heart to tears. “Sweet peace,” she said,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">“Alas—lies slain!”<br /></span> +<span class="i8">With musing worn, she brake<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At last her silence, and to Adam spake:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">“Beyond these walls I know not what may be—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Islands low-fringed, or bare; or tranquil sea,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Spaces unpeopled, wastes of burning sands,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Green-wooded belts, enclasping summer lands,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or realms of dusky pines, or wolds of snow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or jagged ice-peaks wrapt in purple glow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or shadowy oceans lapped in fadeless sheen—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet there were Paradise, were Lilith queen.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To dally with my lord I was not meant;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To soothe his idle whims, above him bent,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Warm in my milk-white arms, lull his repose,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor deep in subtle kisses drown his woes.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wherefore, since here no more dwells love, I fly<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To seek my home in other lands. For why<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Should Lilith wait since Adam’s empty state<br /></span> +<span class="i0">More dear he holds than Lilith desolate?”<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But answer soft made Adam at the word,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For faint his dying love, yet coldly stirred<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Its ashen cerements: “Nay, love, our home<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Within these garden walls lies safe. Wouldst roam<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[18]</a></span><span class="i0">Without? Sweet peace, by loss, wilt thou restore<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One little loss, or miss it evermore?”<br /></span> +<span class="i0">“In goodly Eden, Adam, safely bide,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But I, for peace, nor love, nor life,” she cried,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">“Submit to thee. Unto our Lord I own<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Allegiance true; my homage his alone.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oft have I watched the mists athwart yon peaks,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pursuing oft past coves and winding creeks,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Have thought to touch their shining veil outspread,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In happy days ere Love, alas, was dead;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So now, farewell! Ere the new day shall break<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Adown their gleaming track, my way I take.”<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She turned; but ere the gate that looked without<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She reached, one fleeting moment paused in doubt<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Upon a river’s brink. In one swift glance<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All coming time she saw. A weird romance<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wherein she traced great peoples yet unborn,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">New springing cycles, strange lands cleft with tarn<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or pleasant vale, and green plains stretching far,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And quiet bays, and many a shingly bar,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And troubled seas, with bitter perils past,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And elfin shapes that jeering flitted fast<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With scornful faces, leering lips that smiled,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or bursts of laughter through that vision wild.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Uncertain, then, she stood, half loth to turn.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">“Against yon deepening sky, how dimly burn<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The stars, new-lit. Dear home, thou art so fair!”<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She fondly sighed.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</a></span><span class="i8">Then sudden she was ’ware<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The angel near her paused, whose watchful care<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Guards Eden’s peaceful bounds. Serene, his air<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So tender-sweet, so pure the gentle face,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She scarce dared look upon its subtle grace.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sad were his eyes; his words, rebuking, fell<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Soft as the moonshine clear, in sleeping dell.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">“My sister, go not hence, lest these gates bar<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lilith forever out. From peace afar,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Anger and pride shall lead through distant ways<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy feet reluctant, in the evil days.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All is decreed. At yonder southern gate<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Behold! waits even now my princely mate.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou can’st not tell which hath in our far land<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The highest place. Nay; nor, indeed, whose hand<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hath grasped the noblest fame; nor yet divine<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose brows enwound with honor, brightest shine.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In pleasant labor lurks no thought of pain;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The greatest loss oft brings the noblest gain;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The heart’s warm pulse feels not one throb of strife,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Love is holiest crown of human life.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ere thou didst sleep, beyond the rim of night<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I heard a voice that sang. The carol light,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Scarce earth-born seemed. So sweet the matchless strain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Its cadence weird, lowly to breathe again,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wrapt echo, listening, half forgot; and o’er<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[20]</a></span><span class="i0">And o’er, as joyous birds unprisoned soar,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The free notes rose. And in the silence wide,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Across the seas, across the night, I cried:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">O sinless soul, whose clear voice blithely rings<br /></span> +<span class="i0">’Gainst the blue verge of stars! ’Tis Lilith sings<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The happy song of love. O Love! the tint<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of light divine thou wearest. Thou hast no hint<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of storm or turmoil, or of Sin’s rough ways,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose feet to heaven climb, through darkest maze.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah, Lilith, sure the love that basely weighs,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That stoops to count its gifts, and hoarding, says,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">‘Such and so many, these indeed are mine;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I hold my treasure dear, nor covet thine;’<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This is not love; ’tis Thrift in borrowed dress,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Deceiving thee. Love giveth free largess<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With open hand, clean as the whitest day;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yea, that it gave, forgetteth it straightway.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beyond these walls dwells bliss that lives not here?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When thou hast bartered peace, outshining clear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And storm-tossed wide, art wildly driven hence,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The outer world gives thee no recompense.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Each shining sphere that trembles in blue space<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hath orbit true—its own familiar place.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor doth the planet pale that gems the night<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Reel wanton down, the smallest star to smite.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No twining vine, tendril, or springing shoot<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ere taught thee so; for bud and leaf and root<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Doth its best self lift upward into light,<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</a></span><span class="i0">Yet climbing still, scorns not the sacred right<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That shrines its fellow.<br /></span> +<span class="i9">“So pattering rains<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The dark roots drink—and healthful juice slow drains<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Deep ’neath the mould; and with their secret toil<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bear stainless, leaf and flow’r above the soil.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Noblest the soul that self hath most forgot;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Strongest the self which hath most humbly wrought;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Purest the soul that in full light serene,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Unquestioning, enwrapt, God’s field doth glean.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I have seen worlds far hence; thy tender feet<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bleeding, will tread their stony ways. And sweet<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is love. And wedded love, grown cold and rude,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">More bitter-seeming makes dull solitude.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Security is sweet; and light and warm<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The young heart beats, close shut from every harm.”<br /></span> +<span class="i0">“Yet,” Lilith answered slow, “in that still night<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ere He, the garden’s Lord, passed from our sight,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hast thou forgot his words? ‘Lo this fair spot<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Made for your pleasance; see ye mar it not,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oh, twin-born pair! So richly dight with grace<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of soul and stature; unto whom the place<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I give. Together rule. Bear equal sway<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O’er all that live herein.’ Hath Lilith sought<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A solitary reign? Hath she in aught<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Offended? Nay; ’tis Adam who doth break<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The compact. Therefore, unhindered let me take<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My way far hence. I shall not vex his soul<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[22]</a></span><span class="i0">With fretful plaints, where unknown stars shall roll,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Far, far away,” she sighed.<br /></span> +<span class="i11">“Yet ere these bounds<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy feet pass, linger. Lilith, list glad sounds<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That greet thine ear. Slow cycles will pass on<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And in the time-to-be-bright years, grow wan;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Old planets fade, new stars shall dimly burn,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But not to Eden’s peace shalt thou return.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oft from thy yearning heart glad hope shall fail.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy fruit of life lift bloom all sere and pale.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Certain, small comfort bides, when joy is gone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In Great or Less. Grim Sorrow waits to lead thee on.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sorrow! Thou hast not seen her pallid face.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In thy most troubled dream she had no place”—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">“Nay, I depart,” she said, with lips grown chill.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">“Fearless and free, exiled, but princess still.”<br /></span> +<span class="i0">“I may not hinder thee,” the Angel sighed;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">“No soul unwilling here may ever bide.”<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Slow swung the verdant gates neath saddest eyes.<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Lilith forever lost fair Paradise.</i><br /></span> +</div></div> + + + + +<!-- <p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</a></span>BOOK II.</p> --> +<!-- <p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[24]</a></span>[Blank Page]</p> --> +<h2><a name="BOOK_II" id="BOOK_II"></a><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</a></span>BOOK II.</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><span class="firstword"><span class="dropcap">S</span>oft</span> stealing through the shade, and skirting swift<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The walls of Paradise, through night’s dark rift<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lilith fled far; nor stopped lest deadly snare<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or peril by the wayside lurked.<br /></span> +<span class="i12">The air<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Grew chill. Loud beat her heart, as through the wind<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Echoed, unseen, pursuing feet, behind.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Adown the pathway of the mist she passed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And reached a weird, strange land at last.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When morning flecked the dappled sky with red,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And odors sweet from waking flowers were shed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lilith beheld a plain, outstretching wide,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With distant mountains seamed.<br /></span> +<span class="i12">Afar, a silvery tide<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The blue shore kissed. And in that tropic glow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dim islands shone, palm-fringed, and low.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In nearer space, like scarlet arrows flew<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Strange birds, or ’mong the reedy fens, or through<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</a></span><span class="i0">Tall trees, of unknown leafage, glancing, went.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now Lilith seaward passed, and stooping, bent<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her hollowed hand above the wave, and quaffed;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For she was spent with wanderings wide. Loud laughed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She then, beholding on that silent shore<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rare shells, that still faint in their pink lips bore<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wild ocean-songs; and precious stones, that bright<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That dim sea’s marge, deep in the land of night<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thick strewed.<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Then glad, she lifted shining eyes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Loud crying there, “O Lilith, now arise,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Great queen-triumphant! See how wildly fair<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Before me lies my realm! And from its air<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Soft, sensuous, new life as ruddy wine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My spirit drinks. Nor beauty so divine<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hath Eden’s self. Look, where upon the sands<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The garish mosses spread with dainty hands,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like goblin network fine, each fairy frond.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And dusky trees shut in broad fields beyond,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And hang long trembling garlands, age-grown-gray,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From topmost boughs adown, athwart the day;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And sweet amid these wilds, bright dewy bells<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ring summer chimes. And soft in fragrant dells,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">’Mong tender leaves, great spikes of scarlet flaunt<br /></span> +<span class="i0">About the pools—the errant wild bees’ haunt—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And thick with bramble-blooms pink petals starred,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And dew-stained buds of blue, the velvet sward.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</a></span><span class="i0">Scarce ripple stirred the sea; and inland wend<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Far bays and sedgy ponds; and rolling rivers bend.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A land of leaf and fruitage in the glow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of palest glamours steeped. And far and low<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Great purple isles; and further still a rim<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of sunset-tinted hills, that softly dim<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shine ’gainst the day. “O world, new found,” she said,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">“With treasures heaped and odors rare, ’mong flowers shed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For whose dear sake I came o’er flinty ways,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And paths with danger fraught; ’mong brambly sprays,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With bleeding feet, and shoulders thorn-pierced deep.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But perils past, fade fast. And I will weep<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My Eden lost no more.” And sweet and low<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As one who dreams, she said, “For now I know<br /></span> +<span class="i0">These mountain heights, these level plains, are mine.”<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She ceased, and inland quickly turned. “Fair shine<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Strange fruits thick-set, or blossoms lightly tossed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Low at my feet.” Therewith, a dusk globe, crossed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With golden bands, from bent boughs, stripped she. Through<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The gleaming sphere its nectrous juices drew,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And thirsting cried—as one grown drunken: “Mine<br /></span> +<span class="i0">These fruits unknown, in thorny combs that shine,<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</a></span><span class="i0">Or gray-green spikes that glow, dull on the sands.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fain would I pluck, out-reaching eager hands,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Save that a marvel grows of ruddier rind<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Out-flinging fruity breath upon the wind,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beneath harsh spines half-hid. Nor drains<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My wilful spouse such nectars fine. Nor gains<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His patient care the fruitage rare, these plains<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That heaps unheeded. Nay, nor bearded grains<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Golding this goodly land, where Lilith reigns.”<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">So passed the glad years on, and o’er her home—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Its woods and mountains, its clear streams—to roam,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She loved. The inmost throb of Nature’s heart<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She felt amid the grass. Each daintiest part<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Nature’s work she knew; each gain, each loss.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And reverent watched on high the starry cross<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gleaming, mute symbol in that southern dome<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of One—the Promised One—of days to come.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The rifted sea-shell on the shingly beach<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She scanned, pitying each inmate gone. Each<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Named. ’Mong beetling crags, the sea-bird’s home,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Light-footed, went. Or, idly, in the foam<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Under the cocoa-palms, her fingers dipped,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Much marveling to see where featly slipped<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beneath the waves scaled creatures, crimson-dyed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or luminous: Barred-yellow, purple pied,<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</a></span><span class="i0">Rose-tinted, opaline, or dight with stain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rich as the rainbow streaks, when through the rain<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Sun’s kiss falls. Much wondered she when bright<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By sedgy pools, flamingoes stalked. And light<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The startled ostrich bent his headlong flight<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O’er desert bare. And on the woody height<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Trooped zebras, velvet-brown. The date’s green crest<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beneath, the peaceful camels lay at rest.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And slender-straight camelopards the boughs<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Down-drew, the lush-green leaves thereon to browse.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or oft ’mong oozy bogs, or through the fens,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fearless she went, when low, ’mong reedy dens<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The water-courses by, huge creatures slept,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or in the jungles spotted panthers crept,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And in the thickets deadly serpents wound<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like blossomed wreaths, their coils upon the ground.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">All forms of life she saw; with tenderest care<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Uplifting humblest sprays, or blooms most rare.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pierced the deep heart of Nature’s subtlest lore,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Touched highest knowledge, probed the inmost core<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of hidden things. She tracked each circling world<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the wide sweep of billows lightly curled.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Each page the Master writ she read, close furled<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In lotus blooms, or, ’mong the storm-clouds whirled;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or traced, star-lettered, on the flaming scroll<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The night unwinds toward the southern pole.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</a></span><span class="i0">And sometimes wiling idle days, she wove<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In quaint device, gems from her treasure-trove,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rare garlanded, or set in flashing zone<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Soft emerald, sapphire pale, and many a stone<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Out-gleaming amethyst. Her yellow hair<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Among, the glinting diamonds shone. And there<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sultry topaz burned. And laughing, twined<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She round her bare white throat red rubies shrined<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In pearls.<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Or she among the haunts would rove<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That sheltered island birds; or in the grove,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or ’mong the rocky cliffs, where dainty nests<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They fashioned swift. She scaled the seaward crests,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And on the sands piled turtle eggs, when all<br /></span> +<span class="i0">About hoarse-shrieked the water-fowl, or call<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of plovers fell among the tangled glens,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or lonely bitterns’ boom came o’er the fens.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">So traversed she her realm, when mangoes green<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Baobabs by, showed freshest hues; and sheen<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of silver touched acacias slight; and lone<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The solitary aloes, dreamed. The moan<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of that far sea against the shore brake soft.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And through that blossom-burdened land as oft<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She roamed and far, sweet sped the passing days.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till one dawned fairest, in whose noon-tide haze<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sweet slumbering she lay; and dreamed-steeped still,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Half conscious, caught the tinkle of a rill<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</a></span><span class="i0">In far-off Paradise. More silver clear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Across her thoughts, as once she loved to hear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rippled the waters, low against the stones<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where poised gemmed dragon-flies; and sudden moans<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shook ’mong blue flags. Waked, vague unrest<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And tender yearning rose within her breast,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And longing love, that she ne’er more might still.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When late upon her parting day smiled chill,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pensive she gazed upon the darkling land,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With lingering feet o’er-passed the shining strand,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And silent sat on an o’erhanging ledge,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sea o’erlooking. Far the horizon’s edge<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Athwart her gaze a rim of blue hills cleft,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whereat she sighed. “So rose, ere I them left,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So smiled, the dim hills round my Eden home.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But I—wherefore recall, when far I roam,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dreams vanished—gone? And now since long time dead<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is that fair past, I fain would lay it low<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where soft about it memories sweet may blow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As summer winds the fallen leaves among.”<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then passed her tender thoughts, and loud and glad<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As our morn wakens, strong that yesternight slept sad,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She sang. The song triumphant upward swelled,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Unsorrowed by soft dreams or thoughts of eld—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As fresh the full, free, mellow notes did rise<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As the blithe skylark’s strain, anear the skies:<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</a></span><span class="i3">High, high, bold Eagle, soar;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I watch thy flight, above thy craggèd rock.<br /></span> +<span class="i3">Below thee, torrents roar,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Down-bursting wild with angry shock<br /></span> +<span class="i3">Upon the vales. O proud bird, free,<br /></span> +<span class="i3">My spirit, mounting, follows thee,<br /></span> +<span class="i3">Still follows thee, still follows thee.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i3">O Sea—O Sea so wide!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Far roll thy waves ere yet they find thy shore.<br /></span> +<span class="i3">I hear thy sullen tide<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Break ’neath the beetling cliffs with muffled roar.<br /></span> +<span class="i3">Afar, afar, O moaning Sea,<br /></span> +<span class="i3">My roving soul still follows thee,<br /></span> +<span class="i3">Still follows thee, still follows thee.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i3">O Whirlwind black—O strong!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy scorching breath fierce burns the crouching land<br /></span> +<span class="i3">And thou dost sweep along<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The raveled clouds. O Whirlwind, see—<br /></span> +<span class="i3">My spirit rising, follows thee,<br /></span> +<span class="i3">Still follows thee, still follows thee.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i3">Nay, nay! My dauntless soul,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still higher than thy wing, O Eagle, soars,<br /></span> +<span class="i3">And wider still than roll<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy waves, and further than thy shores,<br /></span> +<span class="i3">My spirit flees—O Sea—O Sea<br /></span> +<span class="i3">No more it follows, follows thee.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i3">Whirlwind, more strong than thou<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My soul, that fearless leaps to thine embrace<br /></span> +<span class="i3">And thy stern, wrinkled brow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Doth tender touch and soothingly,<br /></span> +<span class="i3">And vassal art thou still to me,<br /></span> +<span class="i3">That no more, Whirlwind, follows thee.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[33]</a></span><span class="i0">Swift changed her mood, and darkened in her face.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As sometimes in an open, sunny place<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sudden dusks o’er crinkling waters run,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So fell her thoughts to music. And as one<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That grieves, she sang. That lay—soft, weirdly clear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The babbling waves made murmurous pause to hear:<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Fair land (she sang), O sun-steeped realm of mine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Sun, thy lover, hath his farewell kiss.<br /></span> +<span class="i4">I only pine<br /></span> +<span class="i4">While dim stars shine.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Strong is thy Day-god! yet his parting kiss<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Falls soft upon thy faltering lips. O land,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Thou hast a bliss<br /></span> +<span class="i4">I ever miss.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Fast comes the night, and warm, for thy dear sake,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The shadows curtain dusk, thy lonely rest.<br /></span> +<span class="i4">I only wake<br /></span> +<span class="i4">My plaint to make.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Fair land, my lover cold, doth careless take<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From my shut lips his flight. Here leaves me lone<br /></span> +<span class="i4">My moan to make,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">My heart to break.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She ceased. But still the song did float and fade,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As failing sunshine soft, in woodland glade.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Lilith, listening, heard—so wild, so shrill,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet dream-like, far, again that tinkling rill<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[34]</a></span><span class="i0">In Paradise. And o’er her spirit swept<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A sadness bitter-sweet, as ’neath the green palms crept<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The wind, low-sighing, faint. As from lone nest<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A bird torn pinion lifts, striving to soar<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To shelter safe, so, Edenward once more<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Turned Lilith’s drooping thoughts.<br /></span> +<span class="i13">Uprose she then,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And brooding, homeward slowly went again.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + + +<!-- <p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[35]</a></span>BOOK III.</p> --> +<!-- <p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[36]</a></span>[Blank Page]</p> --> +<h2><a name="BOOK_III" id="BOOK_III"></a><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[37]</a></span>BOOK III.</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><span class="firstword"><span class="dropcap">W</span>ide</span> through her realm she walked, and glad or lorn<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She mused. So, loitering, it chanced one morn<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When lone she sat upon a mountain height,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One sudden stood anear, whose dark eyes bright<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Upon her shone. Pallid his face, and red<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His smileless lips. “Who art thou?” Lilith said,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And faint a hidden pain her hot heart stirred,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When low, and rarely sweet, his voice she heard.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She looked, half-pleased—and half in strange surprise<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shrank ’neath the gaze of those wild, starry eyes.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">“Oh, dame,” the stranger said, “where waters leap<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bright glancing down, I rested oft, where steep<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy Eden o’er, bare-browed, a peak uprose.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Naught craving bloom or fruitage—nay, nor those<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Frail joys Adam holds dear. One only boon<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I sought of all his heritage. Fair ’neath the moon<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I saw thee stand; and all about thy feet<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The night her perfume spilled, soft incense meet.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then low I sighed, when grew thy beauty on my sight,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">‘Some comfort yet remains, if that I might<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[38]</a></span><span class="i0">From Adam pluck this perfect flower. Some morn—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If I (some dreamed-of morn, perchance slow-born)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This flawless bloom, white, fragrant, lustrous, pure<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For ever on my breast might hold secure.’<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yea, for thy love, through darkling realms of night<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I followed thee, sharing thy fearful flight<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Unseen. Lo, when thy timid heart, behind<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Heard echoing phantom feet upon the wind,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">’Twas I, pursuing o’er the day’s last brink;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wherefore, I now am here. O Lilith, think<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How over-much I love thee, and how sweet<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Were life with thee! O weary naked feet,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With me each onward path wilt thou not tread?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or, if thou endest here thy quest,” he said,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">“Let me too bide with thee.”<br /></span> +<span class="i11">Made answer low<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lilith thereto: “Meseems not long ago<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One stood at Eden’s gate like thee. But thy face<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is darker, red thy lips. Of kingly race<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I know thee. Say, whence comest thou, O prince?”<br /></span> +<span class="i0">“Nay, then,” he sighed, “an outcast I, long since<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From Heaven thrust out; yet now, the curse is past,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor mourn I Heaven lost, if at the last<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy love I win. Yea, where thou art, I know<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is Heaven. And bliss, in sooth” (oh, soft and low,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He said), “lives ever in thy smile.”<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[39]</a></span><span class="i13">His speech<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thus ended. And toward the sandy beach<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He passed. Though long her eyes the stranger sought<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where curved the distant shore, she saw him not.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Soft through the trees the mottled shadows dropped<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When Lilith in her pleasance sat. Half-propped<br /></span> +<span class="i0">’Gainst mossy trunk her slender length. Her hair<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In sunny web, enmeshed her elbows bare.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Slowly the breeze swayed the mimosas slight<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As Eblis pushed aside the bent boughs light.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">“O dame,” he said, “it seemeth surely meet<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Earth’s richest gifts to lay at Lilith’s feet;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Therefore I said ‘unto the fairest one,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Things loveliest beneath the shining sun<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I bring.’ Since of all crafts in this young earth<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I am true master, unto her whose worth<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So much deserves, I bear this marble sphere,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose hollowed husk, well polished, gleaming clear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hides rarest fruit.” Therewith the globe he showed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The half whereof smooth-sparkling was: Half glowed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With carven work; embossed with pale leaves light,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And delicately sculptured birds in flight,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And clustered flowers frail. Lilith drew near<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With beaming eyes, and laid the graven sphere<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Against her smiling lips; o’ertraced the vine<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That circled it with fingers slim. “Mine, mine<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[40]</a></span><span class="i0">Is it, O prince?” she cried. “I know not why<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Its beauty doth recall the winds’ long sigh<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That surged among the palms. Methinks is dead<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Some summer-tide, that in its own sweet stead<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hath left upon the stone its imaging.”<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Eblis replied: “On earth, is anything<br /></span> +<span class="i0">More fair? If such thou knowest, Lilith, speak.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That I, for thee, surely would straightway seek.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Say, if indeed thou findest anywhere,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On land or sea, created things so rare?”<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Lilith answered, “On this earth so round,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Naught else so lovely anywhere I found.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So shames it meaner work—so had I said—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But see yon nodding palm that droops its head<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Low sighing o’er the wave. Bring me a bough<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So feathery-fine. Turn thy white sphere! Now<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On its cold, fair surface, Eblis, canst thou<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Such branches carve, or tender fronds, that we<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bright waving on the cocoa, these may see?”<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And Eblis wrought till grew upon the stone<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Such airy boughs as on the cocoa shone.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then Lilith cried: “Skilled craftsman, proven thou!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Didst thou, then, make my cocoa-tree? Thy bough<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pale graven give the grace of its green crown<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When through it night winds gently slip adown.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No charm of color, nor of change, nor glow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of blue noon sky, thy carven work doth show;<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[41]</a></span><span class="i0">Let dusk bees visit it—or sip the breath<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From thy chill marble buds.” Then, Lilith saith,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">“Eblis hath wroughten noblest on this earth.”<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He answered quick, “Poor bauble, little worth<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To Lilith! Ope thy slighted husk, reveal<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The miracle thy rough rind doth conceal!”<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">He touched a hidden spring, and wide apart<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The riven sphere showed its white hollow heart,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And in the midst a gem; the which he laid<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Within her hand. “Behold,” he said, “I made<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Most fair for thee this lustrous blood-red sard,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And deftly traced its gleaming surface hard<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With carvings thick of bright acacias slim,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pomegranates lush and river-reeds. Its rim<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A spray of leaves enchased, white as with rime<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Night fallen. ‘Slow drags the lagging time,’<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I said, ‘till one day shines upon the breast<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of her, whose perfect beauty worthiest<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It decks, this gem.’ The token, Lilith, take;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If lovelier there be, for Eblis’ sake<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Keep silent; yet with me, oh Lilith, go<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Awhile from thine own land. Then shall I know<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The gem finds favor in thine eyes.”<br /></span> +<span class="i14">Then she<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Turned from her pleasance and all silently<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Passed to the sea, across the yellow strand<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That, glimmering, ringed her shadowy land.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[42]</a></span><span class="i0">“Oh cool,” he said, “the lucent waves that fret<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The barren shore, and curl their scattered spray wet<br /></span> +<span class="i0">’Gainst thy hand. Come! my longing pinnace waits<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To bear thee far. Her slender keel now grates<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Upon the beach; and swift her shapely prow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Will skim the deep, as swallows’ fleet wing. Thou<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Seest! comely and strong it is. For thee<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Its golden sails, its purple canopy.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With skin of spotted pard, I cushioned it.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ere the fresh breeze doth die, light let us flit<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Across the sea. No craft so proud, so staunch,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Goes glancing through the foam. I safely launch<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her now, and speed to fairy isles. Come thou<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With me.” And glad she crossed the burnished prow;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And ’mong the thick furred rugs sat down. “Oh craft,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fair fashioned, lightly built, speed far,” she laughed;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">“To other lands bear Lilith safe.”<br /></span> +<span class="i13">As sailed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They idly on, her slender hand she trailed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Among the waves, and sudden cried, “Indeed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A craft stauncher than thine floats by. What need<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hath it of helm, or prow, or silken sail,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sure harbor finding when the ocean gale<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fast drives it onward?” A nut she drew, round,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rough, coarse-husked, forth from the wave. “Lo, I found,”<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[43]</a></span><span class="i0">She said, “this boat well built. The cocoa-tree<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cast it amid the foam. Its pilot free,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The summer wind; its port, the misty shore<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of ocean isles. It fades from sight. ‘No more,’<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We say, ‘it sails the wild uncertain main,’<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But when the drifting days are gone, again<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We turn our prow, and reach the barren isles<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where, stranded as we went, the nut. Now smiles<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Above; a bending tree. Aloud we cry,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">‘A miracle is wrought!’ We draw anigh.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Behold, the cocoa, towering, doth spring<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Forth from the brown nut’s heart. About it cling<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sweet odors faint; and far stars trembling peep.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When through its bowers cool the breezes creep.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Strong, indeed, thy boat, well builded! I wis<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There be yet other craft as firm, Eblis,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That o’er these trackless waters boldly glide.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Brave Nautilus afar, doth fearless ride,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With sails of gossamer. So, too, doth spread,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To summer airs, his silken gleaming thread,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The water-spider fleet, free sailor true<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That in the sunshine floats, beneath the blue,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Glad skies. And through the deep, all sparkling, slip<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A thousand insect-swarms, that, rippling, dip<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Amid the merry waves. Bright voyagers<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That roam the sultry seas! Look, the wind stirs<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Our creaking sails! Thy pinnace flying o’er<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The ocean’s swell, fast leaves the fading shore;<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[44]</a></span><span class="i0">Yet faster still the Nautilus sails by,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And darts the spider quick. And swifter fly<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The insect-fleets among the foam; yet think<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not when among the billows wild doth sink<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy bounding boat, I fear. Nor would I slight<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy skill, that made it strong, and swift, and light,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And trimmed it gayly, for my sake.”<br /></span> +<span class="i14">Now near<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A jutting shore Prince Eblis drew, where sheer<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The brown rocks rose. And just beyond, a slim<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beach of white sand curved to the ocean’s brim.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thereto he came, and high upon the strand<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Drew the boat’s keel. “Welcome, fair queen, to land<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That Eblis rules,” he said. “I fain would show<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thee what thou hast not seen in the warm glow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of thy glad home. This blighted shore of mine<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No verdure hath, nor bloom, nor fruits that shine<br /></span> +<span class="i0">’Mong drooping boughs. Far inland gloom lone peaks<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O’er blackened meads; or from their bare cones leaps<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gaunt, crackling flame; or crawl like ashen veins<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The smouldering fires across the stricken plains.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Deep in these yawning caves black shadows lie<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That shall be lifted never more. Come, I<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Enter! Know thou what treasure by the sea<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I gathered other time.” Therewith showed he<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[45]</a></span><span class="i0">Hid ’mong the high heaped rocks a dusky grot<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where never sunshine fell. A dismal spot<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where dank the sea-weeds coiled and cold the air<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Swept through. And stooping, Eblis downward rolled<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Before her webs of woven stuff, in fold<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of purple sheen, enwrought with flecks of gold.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Great wefts of scarlet and of blue, thick strewn<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With pearls, or cleft with discs of jacinth stone;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And drifts of silky woof and samite white,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And warps of Orient hues. Eblis light<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wound round her neck a scarf of amber. Wide<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Its smooth folds sweeping flowed; and proud he cried,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">“Among these hills, in the still loom of night,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I wrought for Lilith’s pleasing, all. And bright<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Have spun these webs, in blended morning hues<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And noontide shades and trail of silver dews—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hereon have set fair traceries of cloud-shine<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And tints of the far vales. The textures fine<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Glow with sweet thoughts of thee. And otherwhere<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hast thou such fabrics seen, or colors rare<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As these?” Dawned in her eyes a swift delight,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And low she cried, “Oh, wondrous is the sight,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And much it pleaseth me. But yet,” she said,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">“Beside my knee one morn, its hooded head<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A Hagè reared. Its gliding shape so near<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To subtler music moved, than my dull ear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Could catch. Its velvet skin I gently strake,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Watching the light that o’er its heaped coils brake<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[46]</a></span><span class="i0">In glittering waves. Within its small, wise glance,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Flame silent slept, or quick in baleful dance<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Before my startled gaze quivering did wake.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fair is thy woof, soft woven, yet the snake<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Out-dazzles it. The beetle that doth boom<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Its dull life out among the tangled gloom,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lift his wide wing above thy weft, or trail<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His splendor there, and thy poor web will pale;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yea, the red wayside lily that doth snare<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The girdled bee, is softer still, more fair<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Than finest woven cloth.” But tenderly<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She smoothed the gleaming folds. “Much pleaseth me,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Natlhess,” she said, “such loveliness.” Then brought<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He tapestries of fleeces fine, well wrought<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In colors soft as woodland mosses’ tinge,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or glow of autumn blooms: Heavy with fringe<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of downward sweeping gold; arras, where through<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Showed mottled stripes, or arabesques of blue,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Broad zones of red, and tender grays, and hue<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of dropping leaves. “Lilith,” he said, “when rolled<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The storm-tossed billows round these caves, behold<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I spun these daintily. ’Twere hard to find<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Such twisted weft or woven strand.” “Oh, kind,”<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She said, “is Eblis, unto whom I fain<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Would give due thanks. His gorgeous train<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But yesterday I saw the peacock spread;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bright in the sun gleamed his small crested head;<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[47]</a></span><span class="i0">His haughty neck wrinkled to green and blue,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And since I needs must truly speak, I knew<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not color rich as his: and I have seen<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The curious nest among the branches green,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The busy weaver-bird plaits of thick leaves,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And in and out its pliant meshes weaves;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And since thou sayest ’twere hard to match thy fine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Strong, woven fabrics, watch the weaver twine<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His cunning wefts. Though still,” she said, “think not<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I scorn thy gifts, Prince Eblis; for I wot<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their worth is greater than my tongue can say.”<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Then Eblis deeper in the cave led her a little way,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And showed a stately screen of such fine art<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One almost felt the breeze that seemed to part<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The pictured boughs. And o’er the stirless lake<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dreamed the swift, wimpling waters sudden brake<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Among the willows on its brink—and flowers<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of scarlet, shining-clean from summer showers;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Eblis said, “Cold praise a friend should spare<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This picture true. Certain naught else will dare<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Vie with such beauty.”<br /></span> +<span class="i9">Archly Lilith took<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The rose from her bright hair, and lightly shook<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The dewdrop from its heart. “I loving, touch,”<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She said, “these petals smooth. O, Eblis, such<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[48]</a></span><span class="i0">Give to thy painted blooms; give its cool sheen<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of morningtide, the mossy, lush leaves green<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That fold it round. Give its faint, fragrant breath,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When with the fickle breeze it dallieth.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nay, fairer still my rose than gilded screen,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though it be limned with perfect art, I ween.”<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thereat smiled Eblis bitterly. “I bring<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One parting gift,” he said, “a dainty thing;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Perchance in other time it will recall<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One who strove long and patiently through all<br /></span> +<span class="i0">These days to win thy praise.” An oval plane<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of crystal gave he her; of fleck or stain<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Clear-gleaming. Of ivory carven fine<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The frame. And when she looked, “Divine,”<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He laughed, “the beauty it enshrines. Canst claim<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Aught else is fairer?” And Lilith again<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gazed in the glass, her face beholding there,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her pink flushed cheeks, her yellow streaming hair.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quick came her breath. “O prince,” she slowly said,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">“Fair is the stranger. Bid those lips so red<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Speak once to Lilith. For methinks the voice<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of such in music flowed. Let me rejoice<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Therein.” “O glorious counterfeit!” cried<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He. “Lovelier is not on this earth wide!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Behold, sweet Lilith, ’tis thine own pure face<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That lends my happy mirror perfect grace<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It else had not. Bid thou thine image speak!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No other happiness I elsewhere seek,<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[49]</a></span><span class="i0">If the soft tale she whispers be of me.”<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Lilith answered gravely, “I know thee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Eblis. Master indeed of all crafts thou—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Red Sard, and marble sphere, and agile prow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of pinnace light well wroughten were by thee<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And decked full fair. And, beauteous to see,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fine woven weft and web, and the tall screen<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O’errun with painted bloom, crystal, with gleam<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Lilith’s face—thou madest these. Mayhap<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beetle and asp likewise didst tint—didst wrap<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The green about my rose, and richly fringe<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My cocoa-tree, or peacock’s train didst tinge<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With dazzling hues. Methought thou wert a prince,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But now Lilith should humbly kneel, since<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou art far higher than she deemed, if thou<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Madest these wondrous things.” And lowly now<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As she would kneel, she drew anigh. But he<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cried, shrinking, “Nay, I made them not.” And she<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Low questioned, “Eblis, tell me who then, did make<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Them all. Who set the creeping hooded snake<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And stealthy pard within the thorny brake,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And spread the sea, and wreathed the waterfall<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With foam? Who reared the hoar hills, towering tall<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Above the lands?” With eyes wild flashing, low<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He groaned: “O Lilith, ask me not. My foe<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He was—he is. Trembles with wrath my frame<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If I but faintly breathe his awful name.”<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[50]</a></span><span class="i0">Lilith replied, “Meseemeth, master true<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of every craft is He.”<br /></span> +<span class="i9">Forth the two<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From that drear cavern passed. Ere the water’s brim<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They gained, he plucked the wilding reeds, that slim<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stood by a brook. “My pipe I make, one strain<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Harmonious to wake. Nor yet again<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shalt thou such fresh notes hear. Music like mine<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Methinks thou hast not known in any time.”<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He laid his pipe unto his lips, and blew<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A blast, wild, piercing, sweet. The far hills through<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It rung. And softer fell, yet wild and clear.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It ceased. With drooping eyes, “Once I did hear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A song as wildly clear, as sad,” she said,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">“In mine own realm.” And as she spoke, dark dread<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sky grew with a coming storm. “Oh, haste,”<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He cried; “seek refuge ere this dreary waste<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Reeks with the rain!” And fast they sped<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Back to his ocean-cave. There safe, o’erhead<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They watched the piling clouds. With angry roar<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The baffled billows broke upon the rocks. O’er<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Them rushed the shrieking storm. Wild through the grot<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wandered the prisoned wind, a troubled ghost that sought<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Repose. Or low did moan, and trembling, wail,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like some sore-hearted thing that hideth, pale,<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[51]</a></span><span class="i0">And dare not front the day; and wilder still,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In chords melodious, swelled or sank, until<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She sighed, “Oh, this weird harp among the caves,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Strange players hath! For loud as one that raves,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It rises. Now more sweetly fade away<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Its mellow notes than thy thin pipes.” “One day,”<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He said, “mayhap my strain may please, when wind<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Doth not outpipe my slighted reeds. Unkind<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou art.” “The storm is past; to mine own land<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I would return,” she said. And Eblis o’er the strand<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Led her. And homeward silent turned his prow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That swiftly through the swirling waves did plow.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">But when they parted, Eblis mused, “I know<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No gift soever winneth her, rich though<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It be and seemly. Into this pure soul,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through fear of ill, I enter; or by goal<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of future gain before it set.”<br /></span> +<span class="i11">So came<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He to her pleasance yet again. A flame<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Leaped high above a brazier that he bore,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Its sweet, white, scented wood quick lapping o’er.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With darkened face Eblis above her hung.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">“This hath, than my poor pipe, a keener tongue,”<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Smileless and stern, he said. “Oh, dame,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">List how the wild, crisp, crackling ruby flame<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Eats through the tender boughs. A trusty knave<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It is, that serves me well, and loud doth rave<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[52]</a></span><span class="i0">As tiger caged. When I do set it free,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With angry fangs leaps on its prey. But see,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It now sleeps harmlessly, till Eblis calls<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His faithful servant back. Lilith, when falls<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The red fire at thy feet, dost fear?” “Nay, nay,”<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She cried, and drew her white neck up. “A way<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To tame it thou hast found. Believe me, since<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It is thy slave I too will bind it, prince.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Should Lilith fear? Unfaltering, these eyes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Have watched when rushing storm-clouds heaped the skies,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the black whirlwind, with loud, deafening roar,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beat the torn waves; or whirled against the shore<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The tumbling billows, with fierce lips that bit<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The shrinking land. And the wreathed lightnings split<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The cloud with thunder dread: or wildly burst<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Upon the sea the water-spout. Shall first<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She fear thy flame, who feared not these?” “Fit mate<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Art thou for Eblis,” answered he. “His fate<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Share, great-souled one. Thou wouldst not meanly shrink,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though his strong heart did fail. O Lilith, think!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The crown of clustered worlds thou mayest find,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If thou with him who loveth thee wilt bind<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy life.” “Nay, far happier seems to me<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Than eagle caged, the wild lark soaring free,”<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[53]</a></span><span class="i0">She said. And through her rose-pleached alleys strayed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They to the sea. And tender music made<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That guileful voice; yet slow his wooing sped<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Those summer days. But when were dead<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And brown the crisping leaves, “Oh, love,” he said,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">“Of all the centuries, thou rarest bloom,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy shut heart open wide. Its sweet perfume,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though I should die, fain would I parting drink.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sleeps yet thy love? From me no longer shrink,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My Lilith. Oh, lift up thy tender eyes;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In their blue depths doth happy morning rise;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">’Tis night if they be closed.”<br /></span> +<span class="i11">She softly sighed;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And ancient strife recalling, thus replied:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">“When dwelt a prince discrowned, well satisfied?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And fallen, loving, still art thou a prince,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And otherwhiles might sorrow bring me, since<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It might hap thou wouldst much desire her realm,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Were Lilith thine; for princes seize the helm<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When Love lies moored, and bid the shallop seek<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Across the waves new lands. But Love is weak,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And so, alas, the craft upon the sands<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is dashed, while one, on-looking, wrings her hands.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Such days I have outlived. Like Adam, thou<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Perchance will seek to bind the loosed. Then how<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(If one hath drunken wine of liberty)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shall she, athirst, rejoice; no longer free,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Be glad?”<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[54]</a></span><span class="i1">“My love,” he said, “large-hearted lives,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Full dowers thee, and royal bounty gives,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor knoweth law, save Lilith’s wish alone.”<br /></span> +<span class="i0">“Why, then,” she answered, “on the polished stone<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That fronts yon hill, write, Eblis, in full day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That other time we read it clear, and say,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">‘Hereon are graven all those early vows<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We whispered low aneath the summer boughs,’<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Write every word. That so the stone shall be<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ever a witness mute twixt thee and me.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then shall I know thou seekest in me no thrall<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For after-days, if thou make compact. All<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou hast said, write now.”<br /></span> +<span class="i11">Then on the stone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As she had said, graved Eblis, and thereon<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Did set his seal. So wedded they: and hand<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In hand the wide world roamed. Or in her land<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Abode. And oft, of hours, ere yet on earth<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He walked, she questioned. Or he loosed with mirth<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her yellow hair, down-streaming o’er his arm;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And ’gainst his cheek her breath came sweet and warm;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As through his dusky locks caressing played<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her fingers slim; and shadows, half afraid,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She saw in his wild eyes.<br /></span> +<span class="i10">Or paths remote<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They trod, watching the white clouds rise and float<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[55]</a></span><span class="i0">Athwart the sky. Or by the listless main,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or ’neath the lotus bough, slow paced the twain.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or dragon-trees spread their cool leafy screen.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And faint crept odors through the mangroves green,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where paused the pair upon the sandy shore.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Love-tranced, unheeded, swiftly passed them o’er<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Glad summer days: till one hour softly laid<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At Lilith’s feet a fair, lone babe, that strayed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From distant Dreamland far. So might one deem<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That looked upon its face. Or, it might seem<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From other climes, a rose-leaf blown apart,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Down-fluttered there, to gladden Lilith’s heart.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + + +<!-- <p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[56]</a></span>[Blank Page]</p> --> +<!-- <p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[57]</a></span>BOOK IV.</p> --> +<!-- <p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[58]</a></span>[Blank Page]</p> --> +<h2><a name="BOOK_IV" id="BOOK_IV"></a><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[59]</a></span>BOOK IV.</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><span class="firstword"><span class="dropcap">T</span>o</span> that fair Elf-child other summers came;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But Lilith walked, heart-hungered, filled with shame,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Naught comforted. And in that shadow-land<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She sorrowing bore, in after-time, a band<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of elfin babes, that waked dim echoes long<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Forgotten there, and ghastly bursts of song.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then Lilith saddened more, for that she knew<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The curse was fallen now. And cried she through<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fast-falling tears, “Oh, me most desolate,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That shall not know in any time the fate<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of happier mothers! Nay, nor cool touch<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of baby hands. Oh, longed-for, loved so much!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Alas, my babes, ere yet hour-old ye fly,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Out-spreading shining wings with jeering cry,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Afar from me. Most hapless I, from whom<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The crown of motherhood, yet white with bloom,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Falls blighted! Close in these empty arms fain<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Would I clasp my babes! My tender pain<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But once could ye not solace? Nay, ’tis vain;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I shall not kiss their lips, nor hear again,<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[60]</a></span><span class="i0">As gladder mothers may, low-rippling, sweet,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The laughter children bring about their feet.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oh, soulless ones, can ye not wait awhile,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">’Till on your loveless lips I wake one smile?”<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But merrily out-laughed the phantom crew;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On shining pinions white, swift seaward flew,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or upward rose, slow-fading in the blue;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or lured her trembling, green morasses through.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And ’mong the frothy waves they vanished fast;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or shrieked with glee borne on the wintry blast,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And wilder raised their warlock song.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While fairer grew each day that elfin throng.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">To pluck the mangoes brown, fair Lilith sped<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One morn. Quick throbbed her heart. On mossy bed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lay all her babes. With face like morning, shone<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One there, and wide her yellow hair out-blown<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As ’twere in play. Red-flushed her cheeks, and deep<br /></span> +<span class="i0">About her lips the baby smiles. Asleep<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was one, white-gleaming, pure as pearl unseen<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In sunless caves, close-shut. And one did lean<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Against his fellow, lithe, sun-flushed and brown,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With rings of jetty hair that low adown<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His bosom streamed. And one there was, whose dream<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O’erflowed with laughter. And one did seem<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Half-waking. One, with dimpled arms in sleep<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thrust elbow-deep in moss, that sure did weep<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[61]</a></span><span class="i0">Ere yet he slept, and on his cheek scarce dried<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The wilful tears.<br /></span> +<span class="i7">Then low, pale Lilith cried<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As near she drew, down-bending tender eyes:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">“And are ye here, my babes; and will ye rise<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If I but break your sleep?” His naked feet<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One faintly moved as low she leant; and warm<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His slumbrous breath stirred ’gainst her circling arm,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And slow aneath his closed lids slipped a waft<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of wind, that loosed a trickling tear. Its craft<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The mother-heart forgot thereat. “At last,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Close to my breast, my babes,” she cried, and fast<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Laughing, outstretched her eager hands and strong.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then lay with empty arms.<br /></span> +<span class="i10">The elfin throng<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Breasted the pulsing air with mocking song.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">“Alas,” she said, “could ye not give one kiss—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One tender clasp of hands! And must I miss<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your throbbing hearts from my cold, barren breast,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ye soulless ones, that flout my lonely rest?”<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">There, prostrate, long lay Lilith, and there, late<br /></span> +<span class="i0">’Mid dew-fall, Eblis found his stricken mate.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">“O Eblis, say o’er me what curse hangs bare,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For now no more,” she said, “this realm seems fair.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Its fruits grow bitter, all its light falls chill.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With thee, my prince, poor Lilith mates but ill—<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[62]</a></span><span class="i0">Earth-born, with angel linked. Alas, is left<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No joy to me, of my sweet ones bereft.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Methinks soft baby lips might erewhile drain<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From Lilith’s famished heart its wildest pain.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wherefore, my Eblis, it were wise to seek<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Surcease of grief. That Lilith, is so weak<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who wedded thee; and that she sinned, knew not.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet, if we part, mayhap may follow naught<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of other ills.”<br /></span> +<span class="i6">“Sweet love,” he laughed, “o’er-late<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou art so timorous. At Eden’s gate<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not so, what time the angel barred her way<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My Lilith stood. Shelter within my arms. Oh, say,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was not our young love sweet? Hath it grown cold?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With me thou sharest endless life; nor old,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor shrivelled, shalt thou be. And not one trace<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of earth’s decay (sure doom of thy sad race)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shall taint thy babes. For lo, I give<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy soulless ones immortal youth. They live<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Without a pang. And yet, methinks the cry<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Earth adown the ages sounds, when die<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Its babes; and mothers bend dumb lips above,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And fold still hands, that answer not their love.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lilith, doth not indeed my love outweigh<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Caresses missed from phantom babes? Astray<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From Eden long, here in this fair domain<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To bide; and through long cycles fearless reign<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[63]</a></span><span class="i0">Methinks were joy. In summer sheen<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wide spreads thy land. The marge of islets green<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The palm-trees skirt. Soft shine the dusk lagoons<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And inland mountains. Mirk the jungle’s glooms,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And fair thy fertile plains. Oh, sweet the glow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When we together watch the day, that low<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Among the winds lies still. Shut lilies blow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While here we wait. Come, for they fain would show<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their golden hearts. Or, love, with me to float<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Were it not sweet, through flowery bays remote,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Past coves and peaks? Or pierce yon ocean’s verge,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And through wild tumbling waves our sails to urge?”<br /></span> +<span class="i0">“Yea, sweet is love,” she said, “and sweet to roam<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By listless currents lulled; or ’mid the foam<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Low dip our feathery oars,” she sighed, “yet sore<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is still the mother-heart that hears no more<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The lisping tongues. And sad, when baby smiles<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Have left it desolate. And baby wiles<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shall cheer it never more.”<br /></span> +<span class="i11">“Yet,” Eblis said,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">“Lilith, no longer mourn. For I have read<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Upon a scroll as samite glistening white,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All coming fate, close hid from human sight,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Great peoples yet shall dwell in these dusk lands.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then shall thy children, shadowy bands<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That fly thy fond caress, with them abide<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In closest fellowship. And though they hide<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[64]</a></span><span class="i0">Sometimes from human ken their better selves,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still loved, remain these tricksy elves.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though yet indeed some quips and pranks they play,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">’Tis but a jest, men know, when far away<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The flickering marsh-fires swift they light<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And children follow their false tapers bright<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Among the spongy bogs. The ship-lad smiles,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When distant ’mid the waves the phantom isles<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rise green. ’Tis but a harmless jest that sets<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On lonely plains, domes, mosques, and minarets,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And o’er the desert sands, mirage uplifts<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When glimmering waves shine through deep rifts<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of crested palms.<br /></span> +<span class="i7">“Still dearer they when wide<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To undiscovered lands men boldly ride<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Across new seas, and turn their venturous prows.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When tempests shriek, and wet about their brows<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The salt spray dashes fierce, one, watching, cries,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">‘Good mates, no storm I fear, for yonder rise<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Elf-babes ’mid the foam. Ye goblin crew,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That sail these unknown seas, we follow you<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To harbor safe. Ho, ho! With beckoning hands,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wind-driven, loud they cry—My mates! the lands,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The golden lands we seek, are ours!’<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“In Earth’s brown bosom pent, the hardy wight<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Long in deep caverns dwells; and hard doth smite<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[65]</a></span><span class="i0">The rocky caves. Nor sees the golden spoil<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through weary days of wasted, lonely toil.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From his wild eyes, far-flying hides the prize,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till desperate, angered, worn, aloud he cries:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">‘Vain, vain! The caves my labor answer not,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor yellow threads, that gleam in any grot.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hard, cruel, silent hills, my strength ye mock,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And seal your treasures close in flinty rock;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So, after toilsome years, sweet wife, I bring<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To thee no sparkling love-gift. Nay, nor anything<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To cheer our failing time.’<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">“Then round him hears<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He sturdy blows, and listening, almost fears<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He dreams. But swift the echoes rise, and still<br /></span> +<span class="i0">More loudly roll, and quick replies the hill.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Reverberant, through all the caverns round,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The uproar swells, and fills the world with sound.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then lists he once again. ‘With lusty shocks<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your hammers ring against the hard-ribbed rocks—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Goblins!’ he boldly shouts, ‘smite! smite! ye bring<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My treasure forth, dark-beating goblin wing<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Among the gleaming caves, whose dusk veins hold<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The gold. At last! At last, the ruddy gold!’<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“And lone, in stricken fields, the husbandman<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sits pale, with anxious eyes that hopeless scan<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The burning sky. Hot lie the glimmering plain<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And uplands parched. ‘Behold, the bending grain,<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[66]</a></span><span class="i0">Fair in the springtide, now is dead; and dry<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The brooks. If yet the rainfall fail, we die<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of famine sore. No bleating lambs I hear in fold<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Safe shut, nor lowing kine; nor on the wold<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The whir of mounting bird: Nor thrives about me<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Any living thing. So seemeth, end must be<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of striving. Since all the land is cursed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What matter if by famine scorched, or thirst,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We die?’ he saith.<br /></span> +<span class="i8">“And thick the warlock swarm<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Above his head, wide-spreading dark wings warm,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fast flitted by. The waiting fields he stands<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Among. And laughing, claps exultant hands.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">‘Good speed ye, Sprites! that bring the welcome cloud<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And pile the vapors thick,’ he shouts aloud.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oh! sweet shall bloom again the bending grain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And clothe afresh the wide, the wasted plain.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The clouds sweep black. Ha, ha! Against my cheek<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The big drops fall. Merry the goblins shriek.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Behold, they mount, they sink, they rise again.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ho, friendly elves, that bring the longed-for rain!’”<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thereat, he, smiling, ceased. And when soft crept<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The listening stars across the sky, they slept<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Untroubled, ’neath the mango-trees.<br /></span> +<span class="i14">But when midway<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The night was spent, Prince Eblis waking lay.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[67]</a></span><span class="i0">Soft Lilith’s breathing ’mong the droopt leaves stirred.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And he, sore troubled, mused on every word<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That Lilith spake ere yet they slept. In all<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Foreseeing much of ill that might befall<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their love. “O, queenly soul! Of finer grain<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou art than angels are. And more in brain<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Than man, I hold thee. Sooth, yet taints thee still<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One touch of womankind. And since so chill<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She finds her babes, must I forego my vow?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For one flaw, Hope’s clear crystal break? Oh, how<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ally her cause with mine! So doth she long<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For human love—a baby hand is strong<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To hurl my empire down. From her soft heart<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Red, baby lips can drain revenge, and start<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Unbidden tears. And pity wakes to life<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When ’mong dead embers she sits lone, and strife<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is done.<br /></span> +<span class="i4">“Then, at Regret’s dull heels, lo, fast,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Retrieving follows. Happy days long past<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She will recall. If so for love she yearn,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Back to her early home once more will turn,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pardoning her wilful lord. And he again<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shall win the woman I so love, and fain<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Would hold forever. Lilith, thou one balm<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of my lost soul in all this world! Shall calm<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My sufferings, or love me, any one, save thee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When thou in Adam’s arms forgettest me?<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[68]</a></span><span class="i0">My only love! Nay, then, ’twere surely wise<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To shut these baby faces from her eyes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">New seeds of wrath to sow, her hate so feed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That all her rankling wounds afresh shall bleed.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And in her ears ‘Good Adam!’ will I cry,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lest she forget Eden she lost thereby.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yea, ‘Adam!’ I will laugh. Till her red lips with guile<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O’erflow. And she shall curse him loud. With subtlest wile<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Safe won, then shall she ever be mine own.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Soul-bound to me in hate, more terrible than death<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In hate, that long outlasts Love’s puny breath—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O cunning craft, that with the self-same blow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Forever wins my love, and smites my foe!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“Last night, when Lilith slept, lest I might mar<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her dreams, from our green couch I rose, and far<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Passed silent. Know I not the spell that draws<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My feet unwilling, Edenward. Its laws<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I may not brave to rend my foe. Nor there<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Angel pass, unseen. The night so fair,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As prone among the glistening leaves I lay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On Adam shone. Not sad, as on a day<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Erstwhile he seemed. And I could almost swear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sound of silvery laughter on the air<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fell soft. And a fleet footfall ’mong the flowers<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Scattered the dew. Yet ’mid those silent bowers<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[69]</a></span><span class="i0">Naught else I saw or heard save rippling flow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of waters, and the moonshine white. Oh, low<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Speak, Eblis, lest aloud the night may tell<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy secret to the stars. Yet it were well<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If lies the hidden cure for Lilith’s woe<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Close shut in Paradise.<br /></span> +<span class="i9">“All would we know,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If we, close hid without those verdant walls,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Together watched. What fate soe’er befalls<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I care not, if with me she bide.”<br /></span> +<span class="i12">Down bent<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He o’er her hair, thick with the night-dew sprent.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Soft kissed it, crying, “Love, the morn shines bright.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Waken, my Lilith, now. Through lands of night<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Our happy course afar doth ever wend;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Past smiling shores where mighty rivers bend,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Past cove and cape and isle, and winding bay<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And still blue mists, that hang athwart the day.”<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thereat she rose, and joyously they sped<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By broad lagoons where musky odors shed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">New blooms. About them coiled long wreaths of vine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And slim lianas drooped, and marish lichens fine.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And fared they on o’er many a slanting beach<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And mountain crest; past many an open reach<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And forest wild—till over Paradise<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They saw the stars, clear, tender, loving, rise.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[70]</a></span><span class="i0">Then ’neath the screen of those rose-girdled walls<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They hid without, listing the waterfalls,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or bird belated, twittering to its nest.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So still the spot, the very grass to rest<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Seemed hushed.<br /></span> +<span class="i7">The garden-close, a clinging rose o’ercrept.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Its lustrous stem without that drooping swept<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thick set with buds as tintless as the snows<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On sunless hills, when wild the north wind blows.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Lilith a-tiptoe stood; upreaching, caught<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The swaying boughs. Her eyes with longing fraught<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Close scanned her old deserted home. Then came<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Upon her spirit sadness, as if blame<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Unuttered breathed through those remembered glades<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And touched the odors moist ’mong mirky shades.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With wistful gaze, she traced each bosky dell,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Each winding path. And sweet youth’s memories fell<br /></span> +<span class="i0">About her.<br /></span> +<span class="i5">Then was she ware of Adam, slow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pacing the pleasance-ways. With ruddy glow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fresh shone his cheeks, and crisp his hair out-blown<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By wanton winds. His lips were mirthful grown.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Once he made pause hard by the coppice green<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That hid the watcher. Once the leafy screen<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So near he passed, from the overhanging edge<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He brushed a rose. The hindering hedge<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[71]</a></span><span class="i0">Quick through, in sudden blessing slim white hand<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fain had she reached. “O Eden mine! Dear land,”<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She sighed. And springing warm the tender tide<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of teardrops gemmed the roses at her side.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">So greets the weary wanderer once more<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His early home. The lintels worn, the door<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Age-stained; the iris clumps, in sheltered nook;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The mill-wheel rotting o’er the shrunken brook;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sunny orchard, sloping west; and far<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And cold, above his mother’s grave, a star—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then quick unbidden tears, the heart’s warm rain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O’erflow his soul, and leave it pure again.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So Lilith backward turned to holier days,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Watching through misty tears where trod those ways<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her feet in other times.<br /></span> +<span class="i9">Sudden and sweet<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Came down those paths a glimpse of flying feet;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A sound of girlish laughter smote the air.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In jealous rage, Lilith uprose to dare<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The guarding Angel’s wrath. But, silver clear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The mocking laugh of Eblis caught her ear.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">“Thou hast forgot,” he said, “this peaceful land,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Living, thou canst not enter.”<br /></span> +<span class="i11">But her hand<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Grasped once again the roses’ shining strand,<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[72]</a></span><span class="i0">And ’neath her guileful touch, like scarlet flame<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The snowy flowers burned. So, first Earth’s shame<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Around them set the spikèd thorns.<br /></span> +<span class="i14">Long there<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pale Lilith looked, as coldly still and fair<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As carven stone. Then, with a fierce despair,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A sense of utter loss, downbending there,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With fingers hot she tore the hedge apart<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And laid thereto her face. With sorer smart<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She gazed again. For now, the twain at rest<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Were laid. Pure as a dream, Eve’s sinless breast<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A babe close pressed. One pink foot, small and warm,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Among the leaves was hid. One dimpled arm<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Aneath her head.<br /></span> +<span class="i7">Low Eblis sneered. “I wot<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In young Eve’s arms my Lilith is forgot.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oh, soon,” he said, “these earth-worms changeful turn—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From the oped rose when red the shut buds burn.”<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But wild eyes on the babe she fixed. “Oh, blind,”<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She cried, “was I. Yea, if the wanton wind<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Doth mock, I will not chide. Was it for this<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I wandered far, and bartered Eden’s bliss?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For this have lost the very bloom of life?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So Adam comfort finds, not knowing strife!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Look you, that fragile thing at Adam’s side—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I heed her not. But Lilith is denied<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[73]</a></span><span class="i0">The treasure she so careless doth possess.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">See how the babe, scarce waking, doth caress<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The mother! Look! Oh, hear the mother croon<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Above her child! Ah, Eblis, love, I swoon—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I shall not know such joy. Alas, to me<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No babe shall come! Accurséd may she be,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cursed Adam too. Thrice heavy on the head<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of this poor babe my wrong be visited.”<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So, trembling, she brake off.<br /></span> +<span class="i11">“Fast fades the light,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sweet love. Once more to our dark realm of night<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let us return,” he said.<br /></span> +<span class="i9">As on fared they<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With merry jest, Eblis gan cheer the way.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">“Nay, otherwhiles mirth pleased,” she said. “Knowest thou<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What name she bears, who dwells in Eden now?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When Lilith went, long tarried Adam lone?”<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She said. Replied he, “All to me is known<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Since that same hour you parted. What befell,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To thee as we wend onward I will tell.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“Calm morn in Eden streaked the skies with red,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And flushed the waiting hills above the grassy bed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where Adam, joyless, saw new rise the sun,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Unwinding golden webs night-vapors spun<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Athwart low meads. Slow, droning murmurs sent<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The waking bees, with bloom and fragrance blent.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[74]</a></span><span class="i0">Unheeded poured her music blithesome Day<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The reedy brooks beside and shallows gray.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For lone to Adam seemed the place, and cold;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The landscape dumb, as one aneath the mould.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For Lilith’s sake, no more was Eden fair.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bloomless the days, the nights bowed down with care.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oft pacing pathways dim, he saw the gleam<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of strange-faced flowers beside the purling stream,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or toyed with circling leaves; or plucked the grass,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And watched through rifted trees the clouds o’erpass;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wide roaming, heard the waters idly break<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Far ’gainst the curving beach.<br /></span> +<span class="i12">“And grieving, spake,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">‘Oh, sweet with thee each hour—each wilding way,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And sweet the memory of each gathered spray.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Could you not wait, dear love? Or come once more?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yea, ’till you come, vain doth great Nature pour<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her richest gifts.’ He paused, and heard alone<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Respondent fall, the wood-dove’s plaintive moan,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the spent winds among the scented glades.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Moss-couched beneath the glinting forest shades,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He gazed, when shadows o’er the hills crept light,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quick vanishing, like phantom fingers white,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Until on mead, and mere, and sounding shore<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Eden found voice, sad plaining, ‘Never-more!’<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Long time he pondered on blue peaks remote<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When slow, as stranded ships that listless float,<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[75]</a></span><span class="i0">Moved by the sunset clouds. Or the white rack<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Swept o’er the garden walls.<br /></span> +<span class="i12">“‘Would I their track<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Might take,’ he said, ‘Lilith, so long you stay.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whom my soul follows sorrowing—alway.’<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thus ever mourned he, comfortless; that so<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In after days the Master, in the glow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of morning-tide, the mother of the race<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gave for his solacement.<br /></span> +<span class="i10">“Oh, fair the face<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Young Eve bent o’er his sleep. Ere down the glade<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The startled fawn leaps swift, her glance dismayed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Questions the hunter, mute. Such eyes—so brown,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So soft, so winning, shy—that looked adown<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When Adam waked. Like vagrant tendrils, tossed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dark hair about her brows. And quaintly crossed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her hands upon her breast. Less red the dart<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That deepest cleaves the folded rose’s heart,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Than her round cheeks. Not hers the regal air<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Lilith lost, the white arms, lissom, bare,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The slender throat; the elbows dimpled deep, whereto<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Might scarcely reach Eve’s head.<br /></span> +<span class="i13">“Yet soft, as through<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Some pleasant dream, the summer’s spicy air<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stirs odorous ’mong seaward gardens fair,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In southland hid; so, gently, Eve straightway<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To Adam’s life unbidden came, to stay<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[76]</a></span><span class="i0">Forever there. Sure entrance then made she<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Into that heart untenanted by thee.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">“So, to some olden house, from whose shut doors<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One went erewhile, another comes. Its floors<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All empty sees. The lowly threshold worn,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The moss-grown roof, the casements left forlorn.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Amid the shadows round about him stands,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Missing the footsteps passed to other lands,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And whispers tenderly, ‘Since here no more<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The owner bides, what harm if on the floor<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I pass? Good chance it were the clambering vine<br /></span> +<span class="i0">About the porch with fingers deft to twine—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To draw the curtains, ope the door. For who<br /></span> +<span class="i0">May know how soon these paths untended, through,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He comes again, with weary, way-worn feet,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who made aforetime, other days so sweet.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wherefore, I enter now. For whose dear sake<br /></span> +<span class="i0">These vacant rooms, white, fragrant, clean, I make.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And when, world-wearied, he returns, we twain<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Perchance together bide. Nor part again.’<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So Eve found refuge. Tender love, the spell<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whereby she ruled. Peaceful the pair did dwell.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fast fled the happy years, till softly laid<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In her glad arms the babe—a winsome maid.”<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He ended there. Between them silence deep<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fell, as they journeyed. And the furthest steep<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They crossed, that o’er their shadow-world rose high.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then saw they level plains, their home, anigh.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[77]</a></span><span class="i0">And now, seeking her pleasance once again,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They came to their own land. But all in vain<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His care. Silent she was, and oft did grieve,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till Eblis wrathful cried: “Because this Eve<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Adam holds dear, art mourning? Still dost yearn<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To mate his sordid soul? Or wouldst thou turn<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From summer land to Eden walls?<br /></span> +<span class="i14">“The man<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Belike, ne’er loved thee. So is it young Eve can<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His pulses sway. Is she not passing fair?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her fancies wild, it is her daily care<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To bend beneath his ever fickle will.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Red-lipped and soft, she deftly rules him still,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though he wist not. Yet sweeter Lilith’s frown<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Than archest smile she wears. Great Soul! The crown<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou bearest of fadeless life. For fleeting dreams<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In Paradise, beside the winding streams,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wilt thou resign such boon? Thou art, in sooth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of mold too firm for Adam’s love. In truth<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A prince—though fallen—consorts best with thee<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Say which were wise, with Eden’s lord to be,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or, shining high, the purer soul, the star<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That fadeless burns, and Eblis lights afar?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Were it not grand through endless spaces hurled<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With me to drive, above a shrinking world<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Our chariot, wide?<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[78]</a></span><span class="i8">“For I foresee when dawn<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dark days upon our foes, and hope is gone.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wherefore, my Lilith, now, as seems thee good,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Make choice.” Thereat she, turning where she stood,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With kisses hung about his neck, and smiled,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Crying, “Thine, Eblis, thine!” So were they reconciled.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<!-- <p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[79]</a></span>BOOK V.</p> --> +<!-- <p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[80]</a></span>[Blank Page]</p> --> +<h2><a name="BOOK_V" id="BOOK_V"></a><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[81]</a></span>BOOK V.</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><span class="firstword"><span class="dropcap">A</span>nd</span> Lilith oft to Paradise returned,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For fierce within her, bitter hatred burned,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And better, dearer, seemed revenge than aught<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She else desired. The coppice oft she sought,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Much hoping direful evil might be wrought<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Upon the love that bloomed in Eden.<br /></span> +<span class="i15">Wide<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oft strayed fair Eve; the little maid, beside,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Plucking the lotus; or by sedgy moats,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From ribbed papyrus broad, frail fairy boats<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Deft fashioning. Or Adam, watching, smiled,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With flowery wreaths engarlanding the child.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And laughed the pair, intent on pleasant toil,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When blithe the child upheaped her fruity spoil—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Great globes of red and gold. Or roguish face<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O’er feathery broods, or in the further space<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To count the small blue eggs, she sportive bent;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And far her restless feet swift glancing went.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It chanced one day she watched the careless flight<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of vagrant butterflies, that circled light<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Uncertain, high, above a copse rose-wreathed;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then soft down-dropping, gaudy wings they sheathed<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[82]</a></span><span class="i0">Beside a darkling pool. The copse anear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With yellow buds was strewn. And softly here<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She crept, deeming her little half-shut hand<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Might snare the fairest of that gleaming band.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet ere she touched it, wide its wings outspread<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In flight. <br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">And still she, swift pursuing, sped<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Among the groves, till wearied, slept the maid<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Deep in the mid-day shadows, lowly laid.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Without, stooped Lilith. And with fingers swift,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Among the leaves she oped a small green rift,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That she might see the child. The hedge was wet<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With starry blooms. Whereto her hand she set<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When she awaked, seeing each dainty frond<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of fragrant ferns, dusk mirrored in the pond.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The child came near the copse, much wondering:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From glossy stems the smooth leaves sundering.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And stooping o’er the rift, she saw there, low<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Against the hedge, a face like drifted snow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And soft eyes, blue as violets show<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Above the brooks; and hair that downward rolled<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Upon the ground in glittering strands of gold.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Mute stood the maid, naught fearing, but amazed.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then nearer drew, and lingering, she gazed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In those blue orbs. And smiling as she knelt,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The stranger quickly loosed her shining belt<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[83]</a></span><span class="i0">Of gems. Flawless each stone whose pallid gleam<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lit silent nooks, or slept by far-off stream<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Unheeded—pale pearls with shimmering light,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From distant oceans plucked, blue sapphires bright,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And diamonds rosy-cold, and burning red<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The rubies fine, and yellow topaz shed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Its sultry glow, jasper, dull onyx white,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sardonyx, rare chalcèdon, streaked with light.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Against her white breast that bright zone she laid,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then stretched it, flashing forth, toward the maid,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And clasped it round her throat.<br /></span> +<span class="i13">A luring strain<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She sung, sweet as the pause of summer rain.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So soft, so pure her voice, the child it drew<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still nearer that green rift; and low there-through<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She laughing stroked the down-bent golden head<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With her soft baby hands. And parting, spread<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The silken hair about her little face,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And kissed the temptress through the green-leaved space.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whereat fell Lilith snatched the babe and fled,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Crying, as swift from Eden’s bounds she sped,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And like a fallen star shone on her breast<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The child, “At last! at last! thy peaceful rest<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ere long will cease. O helpless mourn, frail Eve,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Uncomforted. O hapless mother, grieve,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Since Lilith far from thee thy babe doth bear!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She leaves thy loving arms, thy tender care.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[84]</a></span><span class="i0">Nor canst thou follow anywhere my flight,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When far we go athwart the falling night.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah, little babe, close-meshed in yellow hair<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou liest pale! Fear not, thou art so fair,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Much comfort lives in thee.”<br /></span> +<span class="i11">So ended she,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And onward, hostile lands among, passed fleet<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Blue solitudes afar, till paused her feet,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where highest ’mong hoar climbing peaks, uprose<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A mountain crest.<br /></span> +<span class="i7">It was the third day’s close.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In those untrodden ways there was no sound,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No sight of living thing, the barren heights around.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No hum of insect life, no whirring wing of bird.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bare rocks alone, all fissured, blotched and blurred<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As with red stain of battle-fields unseen.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Far, far below, still vales were shining green.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And leaping downward swift, a mountain stream<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Crept soft to sleep, where meadow grasses dream.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wan, wayworn, there, the babe upon her knee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lilith sat down. “O Eve,” she said, “on me<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The child smiles sweet! Fondle her silken hair<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If now thou canst, or clasp her small hands fair.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou hast my Paradise. Lo, thine I bear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Afar from thee. See, then! Its transient woe<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy babe e’en now forgets; and sweet and low<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It babbles on my knee. In sooth, not long<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Endure her griefs, and through my crooning song<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[85]</a></span><span class="i0">She kisses me, recalling not the place<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whence she has come. Nay, nor her mother’s face.”<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Long time stayed Lilith in that land. More calm<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Each day she grew, for soft, like healing balm,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The child’s pure love fell on her sin-sick soul.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now oft among the crags, fleet-footed, stole<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The maid, or lightly crossed the fertile plain.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And blithesome sang among the growing grain<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That brake in billowy waves about her feet.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But when the wheat full ripened was, and sweet,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She plucked and ate. Thereat a shadowy pain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A sense of sorrow, stirred that childish brain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She wist not why. For it did surely seem<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Before her waking thought, with pallid gleam<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of other days, dim pictures passed; of wood<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And stream, beyond these mountain rims. And stood,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It seemed, midway a garden wide, a tree that bright<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like silver gleamed, and broad boughs light<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Uplifted. Like ripened wheat the fruit thereon,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When low the westering sun upon it shone.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then slow the maid did turn, and silent stand<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At Lilith’s side. And o’er that mountain land,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Down-looking, mused. Or lifted pensive eyes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And gaze that questioned if in any wise<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She might perceive the land she longing sought;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But of its stream, or garden, saw she naught.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thereat Lilith with white lips drew more near,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And clasped in her lithe arms the child so dear.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[86]</a></span><span class="i0">And once again fled swift, a shadowy shape,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Across green fields. And heard, through silence, break<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A voice she could not hush, that loudly wailed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">“My babe! Give me my babe!”<br /></span> +<span class="i12">And Lilith paled,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And listening, heard, borne ever on the wind,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The tread of feet fast following behind.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then westward turned, where once among new ways<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With Eblis she had trod in other days,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When far they wandered. Thitherward she bent<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her timid steps, the babe upon her breast,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Until with travel worn her noontide rest<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She took. And now a land of alien blooms<br /></span> +<span class="i0">About them lay, outwafting strange perfumes.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And quaint defiles, that sloped behind a bay;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And level fields; and curly vines that lay<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thick clustered o’er with unripe fruit; and bent<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Above them fragrant limes and spicy scent<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of citron and of myrtle all the place<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Made sweet, and ’mid the trees, an open space<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They saw.<br /></span> +<span class="i5">Not far away a broad lagoon<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Burned like a topaz ’neath a crescent moon,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For day was parting. Even-tide apace<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Drew on, and chill the night dews filled the place.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Upon the waters dusky shadows clung,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And ashen-gray the broad leaves drooping hung;<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[87]</a></span><span class="i0">Low ’mong the marish buds lay one that made<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Against the sudden dusk a duskier shade—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Despairing arms upflinging to the sky,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Smiting the silence with unheeded cry—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">“O mother, childless! Wife—of all bereft!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Alas, my babe, not even thou art left<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To comfort me, in these last hopeless days,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shut out from Paradise. Through unknown ways<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I sought thee sorrowing. Oh, once again,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My Adam, come! Is not this gnawing pain<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of punishment enow, that thou unkind<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Art grown? Ah, never more shall I thee find?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Alas, I ever was but weak. Alone<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I cannot live. Come but again, mine own.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No longer leave me mourning, desolate.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In tears I call thee. Oh, in tears I wait<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy sweet, forgiving kiss!”<br /></span> +<span class="i11">Ended she so<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her plaint. And ’mong the glistening leaves hid low,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lilith yet fiercer clasped the child<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When that lorn mother, tear-stained, weeping, wild,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Poured forth her woe.<br /></span> +<span class="i9">As one that wakes to life<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From peaceful dreams, leaps quick amid the strife<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of morning hours, so now the maid to pass<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From Lilith’s arms strove hard. And loosed her clasp,<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[88]</a></span><span class="i0">And turned her shadowed face with plaintive moan<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And fond beseeching eyes, where lay her mother lone.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But Lilith hardening, seized the child again,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And from her ears shut out the mother’s pain<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With wilful hands.<br /></span> +<span class="i8">So passed she quick away.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Across the dusky path, low fallen, lay<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pale Eve, till clear she saw the dawn’s pure ray,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And as she looked, the voice of one she heard<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Anigh. Her heart to sudden joy was stirred.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">“Rise up, mine own,” he said, “no more apart<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We walk.” Then she arose, and cried, “Dear heart,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Close hold me. So! Methinks I dreamed we were<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Parted long time.”<br /></span> +<span class="i8">So went, the exiled pair<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From home thrust out, together—everywhere.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And oft they journeyed on with sufferings spent<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To distant lands. And oft with labor bent<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Recalled the olden home, with brimming eyes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hemmed in by mountains blue—lost Paradise.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Meanwhile, to her own realm Lilith long since<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was come, glad greeting Eblis. “O my prince,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I have most bravely done. Our foes full sore<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Are smitten now. My guerdon o’er and o’er<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou wilt bestow, I ween, in kisses warm<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As my own southland’s breath. For I great harm<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[89]</a></span><span class="i0">Have wrought that hated pair. With feeble moan<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lies Eve in a far land, thrust out. Alone,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Deserted. And whence angered Adam flies<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I know not. Nay, nor what new world his eyes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Behold. Nor even if he live.<br /></span> +<span class="i11">“But see!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sleeps on my breast the babe—Eve’s babe. And she<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shall know no more its tender, sweet caress,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Soft medicining woe. The wilderness<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Uncheered by love, is hers.”<br /></span> +<span class="i11">And by the sea,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Peaceful abode, long time content, the three,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Save that the child unmurmuring drooped.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then oft above her Lilith, singing, stooped,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Striving to wake the baby smiles again<br /></span> +<span class="i0">About her wee, warm mouth. Vain wiles! And vain<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her loving skill. All still she lay, and pale.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As one at sea pines for a lonely vale<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Besprent with cuckoo flowers; the faint wild breath<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of cradled buds, among the cloven elms, and saith,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">‘I shall not see that place beyond the seas,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor any more pluck red anemones<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In windless nooks.’<br /></span> +<span class="i8">So seemed the child, and frail<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As one that weeps above dead joys. Then pale<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Grew Lilith as those wasting lips she pressed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And kissed the filmy eyes, and kissing, blessed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The child.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[90]</a></span><span class="i5">But Eblis touched the hand so worn,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The faded, wasted face. “Happy, thou mother lorn,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Unseeing her,” he said. “This fragile thing<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To-day lies on thy breast. To-morrow’s wing<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hath brushed it from thy sight.” Low Lilith sighed:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">“My Eblis, is this death?” And louder cried,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">“But thou art wise, and sure some hidden way<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From this sore hap canst find. O Eblis, say,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hast thou no spell whereby the child may live?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O love, my realm thy recompense I give,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If she be healed.”<br /></span> +<span class="i7">“Nay; not Archangel’s craft<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stays fleeting life, or turns Death’s nimble shaft,”<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He said. “Yet if,” she mused, “I laid again<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The child in young Eve’s arms, like summer rain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The mother’s love may yet restore again<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This shriveled life. And yet, must I resign<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The babe? Alas, my little one! Nay, mine<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No more!” Weeping she ceased.<br /></span> +<span class="i13">But after, bore<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The child far northward; the exiled pair o’er<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Many lands long seeking. Till from a crest<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of barren hills Lilith looked down. At rest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The twain she saw, for it was eventide.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And low they spoke of hidden snares beside<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Their unknown path, since unaware fared they<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Into this hostile spot. The dim wolds lay<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All bare beneath chill stars. And far away<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[91]</a></span><span class="i0">Were belts of pine, and dingy ocean shore,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like wrinkled lip. Cold was the land, and hoar<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With wintry rime. Near by, its leafless boughs<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A thorn bush bent, with withered berries red.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At sight thereof Adam, rejoicing, said,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">“My Eve, bide here. From yonder friendly tree<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The ripe fruit I will pluck and bring to thee.”<br /></span> +<span class="i0">“Oh, leave me not! This solitude I fear;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The land about is chill,” she said, “and drear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It seems to me.” But Adam answered, “Nay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sore famished art thou, and not far away<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It is—nor long I stay.”<br /></span> +<span class="i9">So parted he.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not long alone was Eve. Upstarted she<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dismayed. A woman, most exceeding fair,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beside her stood, with coils of yellow hair,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And blue eyes, calm as sleep among the hills’<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dim lakes. Eve, frighted, shrank. As mountain rills,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sweet fell the stranger’s words. “My sister, one<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is here that glad salutes thee. And since done<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is now my quest, and here my journey ends,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I bring a goodly gift. For elsewhere wends<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My pathway, Eve.<br /></span> +<span class="i8">“Beside a coppice green,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Brighter than gold, purer than silver sheen,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In a fair garden, once a jewel shone.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With it, compared in all the world, no stone.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[92]</a></span><span class="i0">And low the Master set it shining clear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Against the hedge, saying, ‘When she draws near<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She will perceive on whom I do bestow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This moteless gem, that fellow doth not know.’<br /></span> +<span class="i1">“Now I without the copse that day was hid.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Soft shone the jewel, as the moon amid<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The blue. And in the garden I saw thee,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where in the midst stood a fair wheaten tree<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As emerald green. Its ears, as rubies red,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fragrant as breath of musk, its odors spread.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And white its shining grains as rifted snow.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I looked again. And in thy fair hand, lo,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Full ripe bright gleamed the yellow wheaten grain.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou saidst, ‘Though I did eat, I live. No pain<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hath marred this pleasant feast.’<br /></span> +<span class="i13">“Then I the more<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Desired thy gem. ‘All things most goodly pour<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On Eve their gifts. But I am famished lone,’<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I said. And still against the hedge the stone<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rayed like a frozen tear the pure Night shed—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The which with trembling hand I seized, and fled<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Afar.<br /></span> +<span class="i3">“But now upon my soul weighs sore<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A dream. A voice called loud, ‘Straightway restore<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To Eve that which is hers; lest I, that bright<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Set it against the hedge, will quench its light.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yea, I will crumble it and quickly smite<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[93]</a></span><span class="i0">It into dust e’en from thy hand.’ Mine eyes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I careless closed. But yesternight ‘Arise!’<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The stern voice cried. ‘Stay not at all. For lo,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I wait not. Lest I scourge thee sorely, go!’<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah, Eve, though long upon my heart I wore<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This jewel rare, behold, I now restore<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thine own!”<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Then Eve cried loud, “Ere my heart break,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Give me my babe! Where is she, for whose sake<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I sorrowed all these years—the little maid?”<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She said, through tender sobs.<br /></span> +<span class="i12">And Lilith laid<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Apart upon her breast her garment, dyed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In blended hues. And stooping at Eve’s side,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gave back the child.<br /></span> +<span class="i8">As one that ending quest<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Most perilous, safe harbor sees—at rest<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Among green hills—and enters glad therein,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So Lilith was.<br /></span> +<span class="i6">So passed she once again<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Into her land.<br /></span> +<span class="i6">But Eve, like rain<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Long pent, upon the child poured swiftly down<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sweet kisses. And again, twixt laugh and frown<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Divided, smoothed the baby face, and through<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her fingers soft the silken hair she drew,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And kissed again.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[94]</a></span><span class="i8">And with a vague surprise<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Recalled the stranger’s smile, the mournful eyes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Much marveling whence she fared. And said, “As pale<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She seemed as bramble-blooms in Eden’s vale.”<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When homeward Adam came, the child she set<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Upon his knee, saying, “Erewhile I met<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An angel. So to me she seemed, as there<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She stood. So tall, so yellow-haired, so fair;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And lo, she brought again the babe.”<br /></span> +<span class="i15">Therewith<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She ended low. “Doubtless an angel, love, sith<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So you deem her,” he replied. And mused on all<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Eve told.<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And watching, saw a shadow fall<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Upon the child. And later, did recall<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Those words, sad pondering “so fair, so tall.”<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But nothing uttered.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">In that land long time<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They lingered. And the child slow faded, till<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One day Eve frighted cried, “See, Adam, still<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She lies! Ah, little one, unseal those eyes!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rouse but awhile, ere waning daylight flies!”<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For she discerned not yet its doom, nor knew<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The hour was near.<br /></span> +<span class="i8">But Adam, parting, drew<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[95]</a></span><span class="i0">Beneath the thorn, lest he might see the child.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And all the lone hours through Eve, babbling, smiled<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Adown. And blew her warm breath o’er the cheeks<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So wan. “The night grows cold,” she said. “Sleep creeps<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dull on my babe. The night grows cold and chill,”<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She said.<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Nor dreamed aneath those lids closed still,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The death film hung.<br /></span> +<span class="i8">A wind uprose, and swept<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Among the dry leaves heaped, where lowly slept<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The child. Cold grew the night and colder, till<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Against the east the dawn glowed daffodil,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Above dun wolds white with new-fallen snow.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So rose the day and widened into morning glow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With rosy tints o’erstreaked, and faintly blurred<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With flecks of cloud.<br /></span> +<span class="i9">Still lay the child, nor stirred.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dumb Eve looked down, nor knew Death’s pallid masque,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And strove to wake the maid. In vain. Her task<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was done. And as she gazed, a gentle grasp<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Soft loosed the dead from that cold mother’s clasp,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Lilith laid the babe in its chill bed—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Straightened the limbs, and kissed the little head.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And o’er the sleeper, kneeling, she did lean.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Forth from her breast she drew, close folded, green,<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[96]</a></span><span class="i0">A sheath of leaves, bright shining, lustrous—wet<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With tears—that in those waxen hands she set.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then those shut leaves oped slow. And low and frail<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bloomed ’mid the tintless snows a snow-drop pale.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Soft Lilith said, “For this pale sleeper’s sake,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O Eve, one kiss bestow. E’en thou canst take<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pity on me. For thee new, happy days await,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But I—I am forever desolate.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For thee fresh love will bloom above this mould;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For thee, in coming years, pure lips unfold;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But I—no more, no more, shall feel the warm<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Breath ’gainst my breast. Nay, nor the baby arm<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Soft clasping me. Nor see the feet that pass<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like falling music, through the waving grass.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Therefore, one pardoning kiss give e’er I go<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To my own land, beyond this realm of snow.”<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Eve, uprising, took the hand she gave,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And weeping, kissed; and parted by that grave.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Stood Adam, after-time, by that small mound.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Low at their feet a sheaf of leaves Eve found,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wherein white flowers shone. “Oh, like,” she said,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">“To this was one abloom within the bed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where lies the child. And fair, O, passing fair,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She was, and tall, with yellow gleaming hair,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And cheeks soft flushed as fresh pomegranate bells;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And dewy eyes, like violets in the dells,<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[97]</a></span><span class="i0">Who came. So, silent passed that stranger fair<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who loved our babe. And e’er I well was ware,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She vanished.”<br /></span> +<span class="i7">Otherwhiles, “Of alien race<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She was,” Eve said. “A princess, with a face<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Surpassing fair, who trod the pathway bright<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Among the mists, beyond the rim of night<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To her own land.”<br /></span> +<span class="i8">And oft in after-time,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When Cain had lain in her young arms, and chime<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of voices round her came, and clasp of hands,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And thick with baby faces bloomed the lands,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Eve silent sat, remembering that one child<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Among the snowdrops, in a Northern wild.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Lilith dwelt again in her own land;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With Eblis still strayed far. And hand in hand<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They talked; the while her phantom brood in glee<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Laughed overhead. Then looking on the sea,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Low voiced, she sang. So sweet the idle song,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She said, “From Paradise, forgotten long,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It comes. An elfin echo that doth rise<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Upward from summer seas to bending skies.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In coming days, from any earthly shore<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It shall not fail. And sweet forever more<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shall make my memory. That witching strain<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Pale Lilith’s love shall lightly breathe again.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Lilith’s bitter loss and olden pain<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O’er every cradle wake that sweet refrain.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[98]</a></span><span class="i0">My memory still shall bloom. It cannot die<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While rings Earth’s cradle-song—sweet lullaby.”<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Slow passed dim cycles by, and in the earth<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Strange peoples swarmed; new nations sprang to birth.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then first ’mong tented tribes men shuddering spake<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dread tales of one that moved, an unseen shape,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">’Mong chilling mists and snow. A spirit swift,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That dwelt in lands beyond day’s purple rift.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Phantom of presage ill to babes unborn,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose fast-sealed eyes ope not to earthly morn.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">“We heard,” they cried, “the Elf-babes shrilly scream,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And loud the Siren’s song, when lightnings gleam.”<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then they that by low beds all night did wake,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Prayed for the day, and feared to see it break.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When o’er the icy fjords cold rise white peaks,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And fierce wild storms blot out the frozen creeks,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Finnish mother to her breast more near<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Draws her dear babe—clasps it in her wild fear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still closer to her heart. And o’er and o’er<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through her weird song fall echoes from that lore<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That lived when Time was young, e’er yet the rime<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of years lay on his brow. In that far prime<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nature and man, couched ’neath God’s earliest sky,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Heard clear-voiced spheres chant Earth’s first lullaby.<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[99]</a></span><span class="i0">Now, in the blast loud sings the Finn, and long,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor knows that faint through her wild cradle-song<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet sweetly thrills the vanished Elf-babes’ cry,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor dreams, as low she croons her lullaby,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still breathes through that sweet, lingering refrain<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lilith the childless—and to life again,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To love, she wakes.<br /></span> +<span class="i8">The soft strain clearer rings<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As through the gathering storm that mother sings:<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i5">Pile the strong fagot,<br /></span> +<span class="i5">Pale Lilith comes!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wild through the murky air goblin voices shout.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hark! Hearest thou not their lusty rout?<br /></span> +<span class="i5">Lilith comes!<br /></span> +<span class="i5">Listen, my babe!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i5">See how the dusk pines<br /></span> +<span class="i5">Tremble and crouch;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Over wide wastes borne, white are the snow-wreaths blown,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And loud the drear icy fjords shudder and moan;<br /></span> +<span class="i5">Lilith comes!<br /></span> +<span class="i5">Listen, my babe!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i5">Ah! Hear the wild din,<br /></span> +<span class="i5">Fierce o’er the linn,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sea-gull, affrighted, soars seaward away,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And dark on the shores falls the wind-driven spray;<br /></span> +<span class="i5">Lilith comes!<br /></span> +<span class="i5">Listen, my babe!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i5">The shuddering ice<br /></span> +<span class="i5">Shivers. It cracks!<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[100]</a></span><span class="i0">Like a wild beast in pain, it cries to the wrack<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of the storm-cloud overhead. The sea answers back—<br /></span> +<span class="i5">Dread Lilith comes!<br /></span> +<span class="i5">Listen, my babe!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i5">Near draws the wraith fair,<br /></span> +<span class="i5">Dull gleams her hair.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah, strong one, so cruel—fierce breath of the North—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The torches of heaven are lighting thee forth!<br /></span> +<span class="i5">Fell Lilith comes!<br /></span> +<span class="i5">Listen, my babe!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i5">Cold spirit of Snow,<br /></span> +<span class="i5">Ah, I fear thee!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sports of my hunter, the white fox, the bear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The spoils of our rivers are thine. Ah, then spare,<br /></span> +<span class="i5">Dread Lilith, spare<br /></span> +<span class="i5">The babe at my breast!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i5">Mercy, weird Lilith!<br /></span> +<span class="i5">Even sleeping,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My babe lies so chill. See, the reindeer I give!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah, lift thy dark wings, that my darling may live!<br /></span> +<span class="i5">Pale Lilith comes!<br /></span> +<span class="i5">Listen, my babe!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i5">Once, in the Northland,<br /></span> +<span class="i5">Pale crocus grew<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By half-wakened stream. It lay shriveled and low<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ere the spring-time had come, in soft shroud of snow.<br /></span> +<span class="i5">Sad Lilith comes!<br /></span> +<span class="i5">Listen, my babe!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i5">Foul Vampire, drain not<br /></span> +<span class="i5">From my loved one<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The life-current red. O Demon, art breaking<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My heart while I plead? Ah, babe! Art thou waking?<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[101]</a></span><span class="i5">Lilith, I live!<br /></span> +<span class="i5">Closer my babe!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i5">Far o’er the dun wold,<br /></span> +<span class="i5">Baby, behold<br /></span> +<span class="i0">’Mid the mist and the snow, fast, fast, and more fast—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the teeth of the blast—flies Lilith at last.<br /></span> +<span class="i5">Pale Lilith flies!<br /></span> +<span class="i5">Nearer, my babe!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">By Ganges still the Indian mother weaves<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Above her babe her mat of plantain leaves,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And laughing, plaits. Or pausing, sweet and low<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her voice blends with the river’s drowsy flow;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The while she fitful sings that old, old strain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Forgetting that the love, the deathless pain<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of wandering Lilith lives and throbs again<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When falls the tricksy Elf-babes’ mocking cry<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Faintly across her crooning lullaby—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Ah, happy babe, that here may sleep<br /></span> +<span class="i3">Where the blue river winds along,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And sweet the trysting bulbuls keep<br /></span> +<span class="i3">The night o’er-brimmed with pulsing song.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Not so, mine own, as legends tell,<br /></span> +<span class="i3">In lands remote, beyond the day,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The soulless babes of Lilith dwell,<br /></span> +<span class="i3">Or vanish ’mong the cold mists gray.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Or oft in elfin glee they ride<br /></span> +<span class="i3">O’er burning deserts blown adrift,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Or singing idly, idly glide<br /></span> +<span class="i3">Afar beyond Night’s purple rift.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[102]</a></span><span class="i2">But thou, my babe, for thee shall grow<br /></span> +<span class="i3">The lilies, nodding by the stream;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For thee, the poppy’s sleepy glow;<br /></span> +<span class="i3">For thee, the jonquil’s pallid gleam.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">My baby, sleep! Against the sky<br /></span> +<span class="i3">The pippul lifts its trembling crest.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">O baby, hush each wailing cry,<br /></span> +<span class="i3">Close to the holy river’s breast.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Not here shall come that pale wraith fair,<br /></span> +<span class="i3">Who, wandering once in Northern lands,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Bore o’er long reaches sere and bare<br /></span> +<span class="i3">The death-flower white, for baby hands.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Fear not, mine own, the Elf-babes shrill,<br /></span> +<span class="i3">Nor Lilith tall, with brow of snow.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">They may not haunt thy slumbers still<br /></span> +<span class="i3">Where Ganges’ sacred waters flow.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Where coral reefs gnaw with white cruel teeth<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The yellow surf, and the torn billows seethe—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When shines the Southern Cross o’er placid isles,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Afric mother sits, and singing, smiles,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Unheeding that a dead world’s hidden pain<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beats wildly rhythmic through her pure refrain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And lingers softly still an echoed sigh<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Low in Earth’s cradle-song—sweet lullaby.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A warning song of doom—a song of woe,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of terror wild, she sings, down bending low,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The while bright gleams the Starry Cross above<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet tells to her no tale of tender love<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Him who lifteth after-time a cross<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That healeth all the wide world’s sin and loss.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[103]</a></span><span class="i0">Ah, linger no longer ’mong blooms of the mangoes,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Nor pluck the bright shells by the low sighing sea,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Swift, swift, through the groves of the palms and acacias<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Comes Lilith, the childless one, seeking for thee.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She will bind thee so fast in her yellow-gold hair—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah, hasten, my children, of Lilith beware!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Cold, cold are her cheeks as the spray of the wild sea,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Red, red are her lips as the pomegranate’s bloom;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cold, cold are the kisses the phantom will give thee,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ah, cruel her kisses, that smell of the tomb.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hist, hist! ’tis the sorceress with yellow-gold hair—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oh! lullaby, baby—of Lilith beware.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She flies to the jungle, with false tales beguiling,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ah, hear’st thou her elfin babes scream overhead!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Close, close in her strong arms she bears my babe, smiling;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">She hath sucked the soft bloom from the lips of my dead.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now far speeds the vampire, with yellow-gold hair—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oh! lullaby, baby—of Lilith beware!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Art frighted, my baby? Nay, then, thy mother<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Low singing enfolds thee all safe from the snare;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Afar flit the Elf-babes ’mid gray, misty shadows,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Afar flees the temptress with yellow-gold hair.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah, heed not her songs in the still slumbrous air—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oh! lullaby, baby—of Lilith beware!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When hawthorn-trees sift thick their rifted snow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The English mother o’er her babe sings low;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where red the cross burns on the ivied fane,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Unwitting, pagan Lilith lives again—<br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[104]</a></span><span class="i0">And softer sings, nor feels the wailing pain<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still faintly surging through that low refrain;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor dreams she hears Love’s early cradle cry<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Slow echoing through Earth’s song—sweet lullaby—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And in the shadow of that cross, her strain<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Breathes sweetly; love, and hope, and ended pain.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Softlier while that small arm closely clings<br /></span> +<span class="i0">About her heart, that mother peaceful sings:<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">O babe, my babe, the light doth fade!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">My baby, sleep, while I do keep<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Close watch, where thou art lowly laid.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sweet dreams shall steep thy slumber deep.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Ah, little feet, be still at last—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Rest all the night, for day is past;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">One watches thee from yon blue sky,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">One watching here sings lullaby,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Lullaby; <br /></span> +<span class="i6">Sings lullaby.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Here on his bed the sunny head<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Lies still; and soft the brown eyes close;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Sweet steals the breath, ’twixt lips as red,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As dewy fresh, as new-born rose.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">O little lips, be hushed at last;<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Fear naught, sweetheart, though day be past.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">One looks adown from yon far sky,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">One close beside, sings lullaby,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Lullaby; <br /></span> +<span class="i6">Sings lullaby.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<div class="advertisements"> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[105]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 143px;"> +<img src="images/illo1.png" width="143" height="188" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<p style="padding-top: 2em">“<i>Ideal American magazines!</i>”</p> + +<p><b>It is a fact</b> acknowledged by +the English press that American +magazines, by enterprise, able editorship, +and liberal expenditure for +the finest of current art and literature, +have won a rank far in advance +of European magazines.</p> + +<p><b>It is also a fact</b> that for +young people</p> + +<p class="center" style="font-size: large">WIDE AWAKE</p> + + + +<table summary="layout"> +<tr><td rowspan="2"><i>Stands foremost</i> <span style="font-size: 200%"> }</span></td><td><i>In pleasure giving!</i></td></tr> +<tr><td><i>In practical helping!</i></td></tr> +</table> + + +<p>Each year’s numbers contain a <i>thousand quarto pages</i>, covering the widest +range of literature of interest and value to young people, from such authors as +John G. Whittier, Charles Egbert Craddock, Mrs. A. D. T. Whitney, Susan +Coolidge, Edward Everett Hale, Arthur Gilman, Edwin Arnold, Rose +Kingsley, Dinah Mulock Craik, Margaret Sidney, Helen Hunt Jackson +(H. H.), Harriet Beecher Stowe, Elbridge S. Brooks and hundreds of +others; and <i>half a thousand illustrations</i> by F. H. Lungren, W. T. Smedley, +Miss L. B. Humphrey, F. S. Church, Mary Hallock Foote, F. Childe +Hassam, E. H. Garrett, Hy. Sandham and other leading American artists.</p> + +<p class="center" style="font-size: medium"><b>ONLY $3.00 A YEAR. PROSPECTUS FREE.</b></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Wide Awake</span> is the official organ of the C. Y. F. R. U. The Required +Readings are also issued simultaneously as the <span class="smcap">Chautauqua Young Folks’ +Journal</span>, with additional matter, at 75 cents a year.</p> + +<p class="center"><b>For the younger Boys and Girls and the Babies:</b></p> + +<table style="border-collapse: collapse" summary=""> +<tr> +<td style="border-right: solid 1px black;"><div class="figcenter" style="width: 82px;"> +<img src="images/illo2a.png" width="82" height="90" alt="" title="" /> +</div></td> +<td style="border-right: solid 1px black;"><div class="figcenter" style="width: 82px;"> +<img src="images/illo2b.png" width="82" height="88" alt="" title="" /> +</div></td> +<td><div class="figcenter" style="width: 77px;"> +<img src="images/illo2c.png" width="77" height="93" alt="" title="" /> +</div></td> +</tr> +<tr><td style="border-right: solid 1px black;"> +<p class="center">Our Little Men +and Women,</p> + +<p>With its 75 full-page +pictures a year, and numberless +smaller, and its +delightful stories and +poems, is most admirable +for the youngest readers.</p> + +<p class="center">$1.00 <i>a year.</i></p> +</td> + +<td style="border-right: solid 1px black;"> +<p class="center">Babyland</p> + +<p>Never fails to carry delight +to the babies and +rest to the mammas, with +its large beautiful pictures, +its merry stories and +jingles, in large type, on +heavy paper.</p> + +<p class="center">50 <i>cts. a year.</i></p> +</td> + +<td> +<p class="center">The Pansy,</p> + +<p>Edited by the famous +author of the “Pansy +Books,” is equally +charming and suitable for +week-day and Sunday +reading. Always contains +a serial by “Pansy.”</p> + +<p class="center">$1.00 <i>a year.</i></p> +</td> +</tr> +</table> + +<p class="center">☞ <i>Send for specimen copies, circulars, etc., to the Publishers,</i></p> + +<p class="lothrop">D. LOTHROP & CO., BOSTON, MASS., U. S. A.</p> + + + + +<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[106]</a></span><a name="PANSY_BOOKS" id="PANSY_BOOKS"></a>“PANSY” BOOKS.</h2> + + +<p>Probably no living author has exerted an influence upon the +American people at large, at all comparable with Pansy’s. Thousands +upon thousands of families read her books every week, and +the effect in the direction of right feeling, right thinking, and +right living is incalculable.</p> + +<p class="center">Each volume 12mo. <span class="bothspace">Cloth.</span> Price, $1.50.</p> + +<table class="twocolssc" summary="booklist"> +<tr><td>Four Girls at Chautauqua.</td><td>Modern Prophets.</td></tr> +<tr><td>Chautauqua Girls at Home.</td><td>Echoing and Re-echoing.</td></tr> +<tr><td>Ruth Erskine’s Crosses.</td><td>Those Boys.</td></tr> +<tr><td>Ester Ried.</td><td>The Randolphs.</td></tr> +<tr><td>Julia Ried.</td><td>Tip Lewis.</td></tr> +<tr><td>King’s Daughter.</td><td>Sidney Martin’s Christmas.</td></tr> +<tr><td>Wise and Otherwise.</td><td>Divers Women.</td></tr> +<tr><td>Ester Ried “Yet Speaking.”</td><td>A New Graft.</td></tr> +<tr><td>Links in Rebecca’s Life.</td><td>The Pocket Measure.</td></tr> +<tr><td>From Different Standpoints.</td><td>Mrs. Solomon Smith.</td></tr> +<tr><td>Three People.</td><td>The Hall in the Grove.</td></tr> +<tr><td>Household Puzzles.</td><td>Man of the House.</td></tr> +<tr><td colspan="2" style="text-align: center">An Endless Chain.</td></tr> +</table> + +<p class="center">Each volume 12mo. <span class="bothspace">Cloth.</span> Price, $1.25.</p> + + +<table class="twocolssc" summary="booklist"> +<tr><td>Cunning Workmen.</td><td>Miss Priscilla Hunter and</td></tr> +<tr><td>Grandpa’s Darling.</td><td>My Daughter Susan.</td></tr> +<tr><td>Mrs. Dean’s Way.</td><td>What She Said and</td></tr> +<tr><td>Dr. Dean’s Way.</td><td>People who Haven’t Time.</td></tr> +</table> + +<p class="center">Each volume 16mo. <span class="bothspace">Cloth.</span> Price, $1.00.</p> + + +<table class="twocolssc" summary="booklist"> +<tr><td>Next Things.</td><td>Mrs. Harry Harper’s Awakening.</td></tr> +<tr><td>Pansy Scrap Book.</td><td>New Year’s Tangles.</td></tr> +<tr><td>Five Friends.</td><td>Some Young Heroines.</td></tr> +</table> + + +<p class="center">Each volume 16mo. <span class="bothspace">Cloth.</span> Price, $.75.</p> + + +<table class="twocolssc" summary="booklist"> +<tr><td>Getting Ahead.</td><td>Jessie Wells.</td></tr> +<tr><td>Two Boys.</td><td>Docia’s Journal.</td></tr> +<tr><td>Six Little Girls.</td><td>Helen Lester.</td></tr> +<tr><td>Pansies.</td><td>Bernie’s White Chicken.</td></tr> +<tr><td>That Boy Bob.</td><td>Mary Burton Abroad.</td></tr> +<tr><td colspan="2" style="text-align: center">Side by Side.<span class="leftspace">Price, $.60.</span></td></tr> +</table> + +<p class="center"> +The Little Pansy Series, 10 vols. <span class="bothspace">Boards, $3.00.</span> Cloth, $4.00.<br /> +Mother’s Boys and Girls’ Library, 12 vols. <span class="leftspace">Quarto Boards, $3.00.</span><br /> +Pansy Primary Library, 30 vol. <span class="bothspace">Cloth.</span> Price, $7.50.<br /> +Half Hour Library. <span class="bothspace">Octavo, 8 vols.</span> Price, $3.20.<br /> +</p> + + + + +<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[107]</a></span><a name="By_CHARLOTTE_M_YONGE" id="By_CHARLOTTE_M_YONGE"></a>By CHARLOTTE M. YONGE.</h2> + + + +<table class="history" summary="booklist"> +<tr> +<td class="smcap">Young</td><td class="smcap">Folks’</td><td class="smcap">History</td><td class="smcap">of</td><td class="left smcap">Germany,</td><td>12 mo.</td><td>Cloth.</td><td class="right">$1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td>"</td><td>"</td><td>"</td><td>"</td><td class="left smcap">Greece,</td><td>"</td><td>"</td><td class="right">1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td>"</td><td>"</td><td>"</td><td>"</td><td class="left smcap">Rome,</td><td>"</td><td>"</td><td class="right">1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td>"</td><td>"</td><td>"</td><td>"</td><td class="left smcap">England,</td><td>"</td><td>"</td><td class="right">1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td>"</td><td>"</td><td>"</td><td>"</td><td class="left smcap">France,</td><td>"</td><td>"</td><td class="right">1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td>"</td><td>"</td><td>"</td><td>"</td><td class="left smcap">Bible,</td><td>"</td><td>"</td><td class="right">1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td colspan="7" class="left">☞ <i>The above six volumes, are bound in Half Russia. <span class="leftspace">Per vol.</span></i></td><td class="right">2.00</td></tr> +<tr><td colspan="8"><hr class="short" /></td></tr> +<tr><td colspan="7" class="left"><span class="smcap">The Little Duke:</span> Richard the Fearless. <span class="bothspace">12 mo.</span> Cloth.</td><td class="right">1.25</td></tr> +<tr><td colspan="7" class="left"><span class="smcap">Lances of Lynwood:</span> Chivalry in England. <span class="bothspace">12 mo.</span> Cloth.</td><td class="right">1.25</td></tr> +<tr><td colspan="7" class="left"><span class="smcap">Prince and Page:</span> The Last Crusade. <span class="bothspace">12 mo.</span> Cloth.</td><td class="right">1.25</td></tr> +<tr><td colspan="7" class="left"><span class="smcap">Golden Deeds:</span> Brave and Noble Actions. <span class="bothspace">12 mo.</span> Cloth.</td><td class="right">1.25</td></tr> +<tr><td colspan="8"><hr class="short" /></td></tr> +<tr><td colspan="7" class="left"><span class="smcap">Little Lucy’s Wonderful Globe.</span> <span class="bothspace">Sq. 16 mo.</span> Cloth.</td><td class="right">1.25</td></tr> +<tr><td colspan="8"><hr class="short" /></td></tr> +</table> + +<p class="center">⁂ For sale by all Booksellers. Sent post-paid, on receipt of +price, by</p> + +<p class="center">D. LOTHROP & CO., <span class="smcap">Boston, Mass.</span></p> + + + + +<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[108]</a></span><a name="MRS_DIAZS_WRITINGS" id="MRS_DIAZS_WRITINGS"></a> +MRS. DIAZ’S WRITINGS.</h2> + +<hr class="short" /> + + +<h3>THE WILLIAM HENRY BOOKS.</h3> +<p class="center vspaced"> +THE WILLIAM HENRY LETTERS.<br /> +WILLIAM HENRY AND HIS FRIENDS.<br /> +LUCY MARIA.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="center">Each in one 16mo volume, beautifully illustrated and bound. Price per +volume, $1.00. The set in a neat box, $3.00.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<h3>A STORY-BOOK FOR THE CHILDREN.</h3> + +<p class="center">Illustrated. <span class="bothspace">16mo.</span> $1.00.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<h3>THE JIMMYJOHNS. <span class="leftspace">POLLY COLOGNE.</span></h3> + +<p class="center">Each volume illustrated. <span class="bothspace">16mo.</span> $1.00.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<h3>DOMESTIC PROBLEMS.</h3> + +<p class="center">WORK AND CULTURE IN THE HOUSEHOLD, AND THE +SCHOOLMASTER’S TRUNK.</p> + +<p class="center">Two volumes in one. <span class="leftspace">Illustrated.</span> <span class="bothspace">16mo.</span> $1.00.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<h3>HOLIDAY BOOKS.</h3> + +<h3>CHRISTMAS MORNING.</h3> + +<p class="center">180 Illustrations. <span class="leftspace">12mo.</span> <span class="bothspace">Cloth,</span> $1.50 Bds., $1.25.</p> + + +<h3>KING GRIMALKUM AND PUSSYANITA; OR, THE +CATS’ ARABIAN NIGHTS.</h3> + +<p class="center">Illustrated. Quarto. Cover in colors. $1.25.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p class="center">⁂<i>For sale by all Booksellers. Sent, postpaid, on receipt of price, by</i></p> + +<p class="center">D. LOTHROP & CO., 32 <span class="smcap">Franklin Street, Boston.</span></p> + + + + +<h2 style="margin-bottom: 0em"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[109]</a></span><a name="THE_HOMESPUN_SERIES" id="THE_HOMESPUN_SERIES"></a>THE HOMESPUN SERIES.</h2> + +<p class="center">BY</p> + +<p class="center">SOPHIA HOMESPUN.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p class="negindent"><span class="smcap">Ruthie Shaw:</span> Or, <i>The Good Girl.</i> <span class="leftspace">16mo.</span> <span class="leftspace">Cloth.</span> +<span class="bothspace">Illustrated.</span> Price, $1.00.</p> + +<p class="negindent"><span class="smcap">Much Fruit.</span> <span class="leftspace">16mo.</span> <span class="leftspace">Cloth.</span> <span class="bothspace">Illustrated.</span> Price +$1.00.</p> + +<p class="negindent"><span class="smcap">Blue Eyed Jimmy:</span> <i>Or, The Good Boy.</i> <span class="leftspace">16mo.</span> +<span class="leftspace">Cloth.</span> <span class="bothspace">Illustrated.</span> Price, $1.00.</p> + +<p class="negindent"><span class="smcap">Johnny Jones:</span> <i>Or, The Bad Boy.</i> <span class="leftspace">16mo.</span> <span class="leftspace">Cloth.</span> +<span class="bothspace">Illustrated.</span> Price, $1.00.</p> + +<p class="negindent"><span class="smcap">Nattie Nesmith:</span> <i>Or, The Bad Girl.</i> <span class="leftspace">16mo.</span> +<span class="leftspace">Cloth.</span> <span class="bothspace">Illustrated.</span> Price, $1.00.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>Either or all of the above sent by mail, post-paid, +on receipt of price.</p> + +<p class="center">D. LOTHROP AND COMPANY.</p> + +<p class="center">30 & 32 <i>Franklin St., Boston</i></p> + +<p>May be obtained of Booksellers.</p> + + + + +<h2 style="margin-bottom: 0em"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[110]</a></span><a name="Writings_of_Ella_Farman" id="Writings_of_Ella_Farman"></a> +<span class="smcap">Writings of Ella Farman,</span></h2> + +<p class="center">EDITOR OF WIDE AWAKE.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p>Ella Farman teaches art no less than letters; and what is more than both +stimulates a pure imagination and wholesome thinking. In her work there is +vastly more culture than in the whole schooling supplied to the average child +in the average school.—<i>New York Tribune.</i></p> + +<p>The authoress, Ella Farman, whose skilful editorial management of “Wide +Awake” all acquainted with that publication must admire, shows that her +great capacity to amuse and instruct our growing youth can take a wider +range. Her books are exceedingly interesting, and of that fine moral tone +which so many books of the present day lack.—<i>The Times, Canada.</i></p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<table class="history" summary="booklist"> +<tr><td class="left">A LITTLE WOMAN. <span class="bothspace">Illustrated.</span> 12mo.</td><td class="right">$1.00</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">A GIRL’S MONEY. <span class="bothspace">Illustrated.</span> 12mo.</td><td class="right">1.00</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">GRANDMA CROSBY’S HOUSEHOLD. <span class="bothspace">Illustrated.</span> 12mo.</td><td class="right">1.00</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">GOOD-FOR-NOTHING POLLY. <span class="bothspace">Illustrated.</span> 12mo.</td><td class="right">1.00</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">HOW TWO GIRLS TRIED FARMING. <span class="bothspace">Illustrated.</span> 12mo.</td><td class="right">1.00</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">COOKING CLUB OF TU-WHIT HOLLOW. <span class="bothspace">Illustrated.</span> 12mo.</td><td class="right">1.25</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">MRS. HURD’S NIECE. <span class="bothspace">Illustrated.</span> 12mo.</td><td class="right">1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">ANNA MAYLIE. <span class="bothspace">Illustrated.</span> 12mo.</td><td class="right">1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td class="left">A WHITE HAND. <span class="bothspace">Illustrated.</span> 12mo.</td><td class="right">1.50</td></tr> +</table> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p class="center">The above set of nine volumes will be furnished at $10.00.</p> + +<p class="center"><i>⁂ For sale by all Booksellers. Sent by mail, post-paid, by</i></p> + +<p class="center">D. LOTHROP & CO., <span class="smcap">Franklin St., Boston</span></p> + + + + +<h2 style="font-size: large"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[111]</a></span><a name="BOOKS_BY_E_A_RAND" id="BOOKS_BY_E_A_RAND"></a>BOOKS BY E. A. RAND.</h2> + +<h3>SCHOOL AND CAMP SERIES.</h3> + + +<p class="center"><i>Each volume, 12mo, price</i>, $1.25.</p> + +<p>This series gives the experience of “Big Brother” Dave Allen +at the Academy; Roy Allen in his dory, the <i>Sunbeam</i>, in Boston +Harbor; Ruth Atherton as teacher, and Beth Allen as pupil at +the country schoolhouse, Little Brown-Top.</p> + +<p class="vspaced" style="text-indent: 0em; margin-left: 2em"> +PUSHING AHEAD; <span class="smcap">or, big Brother Dave.</span><br /> +ROY’S DORY AT THE SEA-SHORE.<br /> +LITTLE BROWN-TOP, <span class="smcap">and the People under it.</span><br /> +</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<h3>BARK CABIN SERIES.</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Each volume, 12mo, price</i>, $1.00.</p> + +<p>Here we find the mountain camp-experience of the merry family, +the captain, his daughters, the vivacious Rob, and the irrepressible +servant-boy, Jule.</p> + +<p class="vspaced" style="text-indent: 0em; margin-left: 2em"> +BARK-CABIN ON MOUNT KEARSARGE.<br /> +THE TENT IN THE NOTCH.<br /> +</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<p class="center">AFTER THE FRESHET.</p> + +<p class="center">12<i>mo, price</i>, $1.25.</p> + +<p>Arthur Manley whom a villain tries to ruin, is the hero of +this book.</p> + + + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 463px; margin-top: 4em"> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[112]</a></span> +<img src="images/illo3.png" width="463" height="111" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<h2 style="margin-top: 1em; margin-bottom: 0em">BOOKS</h2> + +<p class="center">SELECTED FROM</p> + +<p class="center" style="font-size: x-large">D. Lothrop & Co.’s Catalogue.</p> + +<div class="booklist"> +<h3>John S. C. Abbott.</h3> + +<ul> +<li>History of Christianity. <span class="leftspace">12mo, cloth, illust., $2.00.</span></li> +</ul> + +<h3>Nehemiah Adams.</h3> + +<ul> +<li>At Eventide. <span class="leftspace">12mo, cloth, $1.25.</span></li> +<li>Agnes and the Little Key. <span class="leftspace">12mo, cloth, $1.00.</span></li> +<li>Bertha. <span class="leftspace">12mo, cloth, $1.00.</span></li> +<li>Broadcast. <span class="leftspace">12mo, cloth, $1.00.</span></li> +<li>Christ a Friend. <span class="leftspace">12mo, cloth, $1.00.</span></li> +<li>Communion Sabbath. <span class="leftspace">12mo, cloth, $1.25.</span></li> +<li>Catherine. <span class="leftspace">12mo, cloth, $1.25.</span></li> +<li>Cross in the Cell. <span class="leftspace">12mo, cloth, $1.00.</span></li> +<li>Endless Punishment. <span class="leftspace">12mo, cloth, $1.00.</span></li> +<li>Evenings with the Doctrines. <span class="leftspace">12mo, cloth, $1.00.</span></li> +<li>Friends of Christ, <span class="leftspace">12mo, cloth, $1.00.</span></li> +<li>Under the Mizzen-mast. <span class="leftspace">12mo, cloth, illust., $1.00.</span></li> +</ul> + +<h3>Lydia Maria Child.</h3> + +<ul> +<li>Jamie and Jennie. <span class="leftspace">16mo, cloth, illust., $.75.</span></li> +<li>Boy’s Heaven. <span class="leftspace">16mo, cloth, illust., $.75.</span></li> +<li>Making Something. <span class="leftspace">16mo, cloth, illust., $.75.</span></li> +<li>Good Little Mittie. <span class="leftspace">16mo, cloth, illust., $.75.</span></li> +<li>The Christ Child. <span class="leftspace">16mo, cloth, illust., $.75.</span></li> +</ul> + +<h3>Col. Russell H. Conwell.</h3> + +<ul> +<li>Bayard Taylor. <span class="leftspace">12mo, cloth, illust., $1.50.</span></li> +</ul> + + + +<h3>Lizzie W. Champney.</h3> + +<ul> +<li>Entertainments. <span class="leftspace">12mo, cloth, illust., $1.00.</span></li> +</ul> + +<h3><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[113]</a></span>Abby Morton Diaz.</h3> + +<ul> +<li>Story Book for children. <span class="leftspace">12mo, cloth, illust., $1.00.</span></li> +<li>William Henry and his Friends. <span class="leftspace">12mo, illust., $1.00.</span></li> +<li>William Henry Letters. <span class="leftspace">12mo, cloth, illust., $1.00.</span></li> +<li>Polly Cologne. <span class="leftspace">12mo, cloth, illust., $1.00.</span></li> +<li>Lucy Maria. <span class="leftspace">12mo, cloth, illust., $1.00.</span></li> +<li>The Jimmyjohns. <span class="leftspace">12mo, cloth, illust., $1.00.</span></li> +<li>Domestic Problems. <span class="leftspace">12mo, cloth, illust., $1.00.</span></li> +<li>King Grimalkum. <span class="leftspace">4to, boards, illust., $1.25.</span></li> +<li>Christmas Morning. <span class="leftspace">12mo, illust., b’ds, $1.25; cloth, $1.50.</span></li> +</ul> + +<h3>Julia A. Eastman.</h3> + +<ul> +<li>Kitty Kent. <span class="leftspace">12mo, cloth, illust., $1.50.</span></li> +<li>Young Rick. <span class="leftspace">12mo, cloth, illust., $1.50.</span></li> +<li>The Romneys of Ridgemont. <span class="leftspace">12mo, illust., $1.50.</span></li> +<li>Striking for the Right. <span class="leftspace">12mo, cloth, illust., $1.75.</span></li> +<li>School Days of Beulah Romney. <span class="leftspace">Illust., $1.50.</span></li> +<li>Short Comings and Long Goings. <span class="leftspace">12mo, $1.25.</span></li> +</ul> + +<h3>Ella Farman.</h3> + +<ul><li>Anna Maylie. <span class="leftspace">12mo, cloth, illust., $1.50.</span></li> +<li>A Little Woman. <span class="leftspace">12mo, cloth, illust., $1.00.</span></li> +<li>A White Hand. <span class="leftspace">12mo, cloth, illust., $1.50.</span></li> +<li>A Girl’s Money. <span class="leftspace">12mo, cloth, illust., $1.00.</span></li> +<li>Grandma Crosby’s Household. <span class="leftspace">12mo, cloth, il., $1.00.</span></li> +<li>Good-for-Nothing Polly. <span class="leftspace">12mo, cloth, illust., $1.00.</span></li> +<li>How two Girls tried Farming. <span class="leftspace">12mo, paper, $.50; cloth, $1.00.</span></li> +<li>The Cooking Club. <span class="leftspace">12mo, cloth, illust., $1.25.</span></li> +<li>Mrs. Hurd’s Niece. <span class="leftspace">12mo, cloth, illust., $1.50.</span></li> +</ul> + +<h3>A. A. Hopkins.</h3> + +<ul> +<li>Waifs and their Authors. <span class="leftspace">Plain, $2.00; gilt, $2.50.</span></li> +<li>John Bremm: His Prison Bars. <span class="leftspace">12mo, cloth, $1.25.</span></li> +<li>Sinner and Saint. <span class="leftspace">12mo, cloth, $1.25.</span></li> +<li>Our Sabbath Evening. <span class="leftspace">16mo, cloth, $1.25.</span></li> +</ul> + +<h3>E. E. Hale and Miss Susan Hale.</h3> + +<ul> +<li>A Family Flight through France, Germany, Norway and Switzerland. <span class="leftspace">Octavo, cloth, illust., $2.50.</span></li> +</ul> + +<h3><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[114]</a></span>Lothrop’s Library of Entertaining History.</h3> + +<p style="margin-top: 0em; margin-bottom: 0em; padding-left: 4em">Edited by <span class="smcap">Arthur Gilman</span>.</p> + +<ul> +<li>India, by <span class="smcap">Fannie Roper Feudge</span>. <span class="leftspace">12mo, cloth, illust., $1.50; half Russia, $2.00.</span></li> +<li>Egypt, by <span class="smcap">Mrs. Clara Erskine Clement</span>. <span class="leftspace">12mo, cloth, illust., $1.50; half Russia, $2.00.</span></li> +<li>Spain, by <span class="smcap">Prof. James H. Harrison</span>. <span class="leftspace">12mo, cloth, illust., $1.50; half Russia, $2.00.</span></li> +<li>Switzerland, by Miss <span class="smcap">H. D. S. Mackenzie</span>. <span class="leftspace">12mo, cloth, illust., $1.50; half Russia, $2.00.</span></li> +</ul> + +<h3>George MacDonald.</h3> + +<ul> +<li>Warlock o’ Glenwarlock. <span class="leftspace">12mo, cloth, illust., $1.75.</span></li> +<li>Seaboard Parish. <span class="leftspace">12mo, cloth, $1.75.</span></li> +<li>Thomas Wingfold, Curate. <span class="leftspace">12mo, illust., $1.75.</span></li> +<li>Annals of a Quiet Neighborhood. <span class="leftspace">12mo, $1.75.</span></li> +<li>Princess Rosamond. <span class="leftspace">Quarto, board, illust., $.50.</span></li> +<li>Double Story. <span class="leftspace">12mo, cloth, illust., $1.00.</span></li> +</ul> + +<h3>George E. Merrill.</h3> + +<ul> +<li>Story of the Manuscripts. <span class="leftspace">12mo, cloth, illust., $1.00.</span></li> +<li>Battles Lost and Won. <span class="leftspace">12mo, cloth, illust., $1.50.</span></li> +</ul> + +<h3>Elias Nason.</h3> + +<ul> +<li>Henry Wilson. <span class="leftspace">12mo, cloth, illust., $1.50.</span></li> +<li>Originality. <span class="leftspace">16mo, cloth, $.50.</span></li> +</ul> + +<h3>Pansy. <span class="leftspace">(Mrs. G. R. Alden.)</span></h3> + +<p style="margin-top: 0em; margin-bottom: 0em; padding-left: 4em">12<i>mo</i>, <i>cloth</i>, $1.50 <i>Each.</i></p> + +<ul> +<li>A New Graft on the Family Tree.</li> +<li>Chautauqua Girls at Home (The).</li> +<li>Divers Women.</li> +<li>Echoing and Re-echoing.</li> +<li>Ester Ried.</li> +<li>Four Girls at Chautauqua.</li> +<li>From Different Standpoints.</li> +<li>Hall in the Grove.</li> +<li>Household Puzzles.</li> +<li>Julia Ried.</li> +<li>King’s Daughter.</li> +<li>Links in Rebecca’s Life.</li> +<li>Modern Prophets.</li> +<li>Pocket Measure (The).</li> +<li>Randolphs (The).</li> +<li>Ruth Erskine’s Crosses.</li> +<li>Sidney Martin’s Christmas.</li> +<li>Those Boys.</li> +<li><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[115]</a></span>Tip Lewis and his Lamp.</li> +<li>Three People.</li> +<li>Wise and Otherwise.</li> +</ul> + +<p style="padding-left: 4em">12<i>mo</i>, <i>cloth</i>, $1.25 <i>Each.</i></p> + +<ul> +<li>Cunning Workmen.</li> +<li>Dr. Deane’s Way.</li> +<li>Grandpa’s Darlings.</li> +<li>Miss Priscilla Hunter and My Daughter Susan.</li> +<li>Mrs. Deane’s Way.</li> +<li>Pansy Scrap Book. +(Former title, the Teachers’ Helper.)</li> +<li>What She Said, and What she Meant.</li> +</ul> + + +<p style="padding-left: 4em">12<i>mo</i>, <i>cloth</i>, $1.00 <i>Each.</i></p> + +<ul> +<li>Next Things.</li> +<li>Some Young Heroines.</li> +<li>Mrs. Harry Harper’s Awakening.</li> +<li>Five Friends.</li> +</ul> + +<p style="padding-left: 4em">12<i>mo</i>, <i>cloth</i>, 75 cts. <i>Each.</i></p> + +<ul> +<li>Bernie’s White Chicken.</li> +<li>Docia’s Journal.</li> +<li>Getting Ahead.</li> +<li>Helen Lester.</li> +<li>Jessie Wells.</li> +<li>Six Little Girls.</li> +<li>That Boy Bob.</li> +<li>Two Boys.</li> +<li>Mary Burton Abroad.</li> +</ul> + +<ul> +<li>Pansy’s Picture Book. 4to, board, $1.50; cloth, $2.00.</li> +<li>The Little Pansy Series. <span class="bothspace">10 volumes.</span> Boards, $3.00; cloth, $4.00.</li> +</ul> + +<h3>Nora Perry.</h3> + +<ul> +<li>Bessie’s Trials at Boarding-school. <span class="leftspace">12mo, $1.25.</span></li> +</ul> + +<h3>Austin Phelps.</h3> + +<ul> +<li>The Still Hour. <span class="leftspace">16mo, cloth, $.60; gilt, $1.00.</span></li> +<li>Work of the Holy Spirit. <span class="leftspace">16mo, cloth, $1.25.</span></li> +</ul> + +<h3>Edward A. Rand.</h3> + +<ul> +<li>Roy’s Dory. <span class="leftspace">12mo, cloth, illust., $1.25.</span></li> +<li>Pushing Ahead. <span class="leftspace">12mo, cloth, illust., $1.25.</span></li> +<li>After the Freshet. <span class="leftspace">12mo, cloth, $1.25.</span></li> +<li>All Aboard for Sunrise Lands. <span class="leftspace">Illust., boards, $1.75; cloth, $2.25.</span></li> +<li>Tent in the Notch. <span class="leftspace">16mo, cloth, illust., $1.00.</span></li> +<li>Bark Cabin. <span class="leftspace">16mo, cloth, illust., $1.00.</span></li> +</ul> + +<h3>Margaret Sidney.</h3> + +<ul> +<li>Five Little Peppers. <span class="leftspace">12mo, cloth, illust., $1.50.</span></li> +<li><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[116]</a></span>Half Year at Bronckton. <span class="leftspace">12mo, cloth, $1.25.</span></li> +<li>Pettibone Name. <span class="leftspace">12mo, cloth, illust., $1.25.</span></li> +<li>So As by Fire. <span class="leftspace">12mo, cloth, illust., $1.25.</span></li> +</ul> + +<h3>Spare Minute Series.</h3> + +<p style="margin-top: 0em; margin-bottom: 0em; padding-left: 4em">Edited by E. E. Brown.</p> + +<ul> +<li>Thoughts that Breathe. <span class="bothspace">(Dean Stanley).</span> $1.00.</li> +<li>Cheerful Words. <span class="bothspace">(George MacDonald).</span> $1.00.</li> +<li>The Might of Right. <span class="bothspace">(W. E. Gladstone).</span> $1.00.</li> +<li>True Manliness. <span class="bothspace">(Thos. Hughes).</span> 12mo, cloth, $1.00.</li> +</ul> + +<h3>Wide Awake Pleasure Book.</h3> + +<p style="margin-top: 0em; margin-bottom: 0em; padding-left: 4em">Edited by <span class="smcap">Ella Farman</span>.</p> + +<ul> +<li>Bound volumes A to M. <span class="leftspace">Chromo cover, $1.50; full cloth, $2.00.</span></li> +</ul> + +<h3>T. D. Wolsey, D.D., LL. D.</h3> + +<ul><li>Helpful Thoughts for Young Men. <span class="leftspace">12mo, $1.25.</span></li></ul> + +<h3>Kate Tannatt Woods.</h3> + +<ul><li>Six Little Rebels. <span class="leftspace">12mo, cloth, illust., $1.50.</span></li> +<li>Doctor Dick. <span class="leftspace">12mo, cloth, illust., $1.50.</span></li> +</ul> + +<h3>C. M. Yonge.</h3> + +<p style="margin-top: 0em; margin-bottom: 0em; padding-left: 4em">12mo, illustrated.</p> + +<ul> +<li>Young Folks’ History of Germany. <span class="leftspace">$1.50.</span></li> +<li>Young Folks’ History of Greece. <span class="leftspace">$1.50.</span></li> +<li>Young Folks’ History of Rome. <span class="leftspace">$1.50.</span></li> +<li>Young Folks’ History of England. <span class="leftspace">$1.50.</span></li> +<li>Young Folks’ History of France.<span class="leftspace"> $1.50.</span></li> +<li>Young Folks’ Bible History. <span class="leftspace">$1.50.</span></li> +<li>Lances of Lynwood. <span class="leftspace">12mo, illust., $1.25.</span></li> +<li>Little Duke. <span class="leftspace">12mo, illust., $1.25.</span></li> +<li>Golden Deeds. <span class="leftspace">12mo, illust., $1.25.</span></li> +<li>Prince and Page. <span class="leftspace">12mo, illust., $1.25.</span></li> +<li>Little Lucy’s Wonderful Globe. <span class="leftspace">Boards, $.75; cloth, $1.00.</span></li> +</ul> + +</div> + + + + +<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[117]</a></span><a name="MARGARET_SIDNEYS_BOOKS" id="MARGARET_SIDNEYS_BOOKS"></a>MARGARET SIDNEY’S BOOKS.</h2> + + +<p>Margaret Sidney may be safely set down as one of the best writers of +juvenile literature in the country.—<i>Boston Transcript.</i></p> + +<p>Margaret Sidney’s books are happily described as “strong and pure +from cover to cover,... bright and piquant as the mountain breezes, or +a dash on pony back of a June morning.” The same writer speaks of her +as “An American authoress who will hold her own in the competitive +good work executed by the many bright writing women of to-day.”</p> + +<p>There are few better story writers than Margaret Sidney.—<i>Herald +and Presbyter.</i></p> + + +<p class="center"><b>Comments of the Secular and Religious Press</b>.</p> + + +<h3 style="text-align: left">FIVE LITTLE PEPPERS AND HOW THEY GREW.</h3> + +<p>A charming work.... The home scenes in which these little Peppers +are engaged are capitally described.... Will find prominent place +among the higher class of juvenile presentation books.—<i>Religious Herald.</i></p> + +<p>One of the best told tales given to the children for some time ... +The perfect reproduction of child-life in its minutest phases, catches one’s +attention at once.—<i>Christian Advocate.</i></p> + +<p>A good book to place in the hands of every boy or girl.—Chicago +<i>Inter-Ocean.</i></p> + + +<h3 style="text-align: left">SO AS BY FIRE.</h3> + +<p>Will be hailed with eager delight, and found well worth reading.—<i>Christian +Observer.</i></p> + +<p>An admirable Sunday-school book—<i>Arkansas Evangel.</i></p> + +<p>We have followed with intense interest the story of David Folsom ... +A man poor, friendless, and addicted to drink;... the influence +of little Cricket;... the faithful care of aunt Phebe; all steps by +which he climbed to higher manhood.—<i>Woman at Work.</i></p> + + +<h3 style="text-align: left">THE PETTIBONE NAME.</h3> + +<p>It is one of the finest pieces of American fiction that has been published +for some time.—<i>Newsdealers’ Bulletin</i>, New York.</p> + +<p>It ought to attract wide attention from the simplicity of its style, and +the vigor and originality of its treatment.—<i>Chicago Herald.</i></p> + +<p>This is a capital story illustrating New England life.—<i>Inter-Ocean</i>, +Chicago.</p> + +<p>The characters of the story seem all to be studies from life.—<i>Boston +Post.</i></p> + +<p>It is a New England tale, and its characters are true to the original +type, and show careful study and no little skill in portraiture.—<i>Christian +at Work</i>, New York.</p> + +<p>To be commended to readers for excellent delineations, sparkling style, +bright incident and genuine interest.—<i>The Watchman.</i></p> + +<p>A capital story; bright with excellent sketches of character. Conveys +good moral and spiritual lessons ... In short, the book is in every +way well done.—<i>Illustrated Christian Weekly.</i></p> + + +<h3 style="text-align: left">HALF YEAR AT BRONCKTON.</h3> + +<p>A live boy writes: “This is about the best book that ever was written +or ever can be.”</p> + +<p>“This bright and earnest story ought to go into the hands of every boy +who is old enough to be subjected to the temptations of school life.”</p> + + +<p class="center">D. LOTHROP & CO., Publishers, Boston.</p> + + + + +<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[118]</a></span><a name="Books_of_the_Celebrated_Prize" id="Books_of_the_Celebrated_Prize"></a>Books of the Celebrated Prize +Series.</h2> + + +<p>The preparation of this famous series was a happy inspiration. No books +for the young worthy of circulation have ever met so warm a welcome or +had a wider sale. The fact that each of them has passed the criticism of +a committee of clergymen of different denominations, men of high scholarship, +excellent literary taste, wide observation, and rare good judgment, +is a commendation in itself sufficient to secure for these books the widest +welcome. The fact that they are found, in every instance, to be fully +worthy of such high commendation, accounts for their continued and increasing +popularity.</p> + + +<p><big>The $1000 prize Books.</big> A fresh edition in new style of +binding.</p> + + +<table style="width: 100%" summary="booklist"> +<tr><td>16 vols. <span class="leftspace">12mo.</span></td><td class="right">$24.50</td></tr> +</table> + + +<p><big>The New $500 Prize Series.</big> A fresh edition in new style of +binding.</p> + +<table style="width: 100%" summary="booklist"> +<tr><td>13 vols. <span class="leftspace">12mo.</span></td><td class="right">$16.75</td></tr> +</table> + + +<p><big>The Original $500 Prize Series.</big> A fresh edition in new +style of binding.</p> + +<table style="width: 100%" summary="booklist"> +<tr><td>8 vols. <span class="leftspace">12mo.</span></td><td class="right">$12.00</td></tr> +</table> + + +<h3 class="prizes">The Original $500 Prize Stories.</h3> + +<table class="twocols" summary="booklist"> +<tr><td>Andy Luttrell. <span class="leftspace">$1.50.</span></td><td>Sabrina Hackett. <span class="leftspace">$1.50.</span></td></tr> +<tr><td>Shining Hours. <span class="leftspace">$1.50.</span></td><td>Aunt Matty. <span class="leftspace">$1.50.</span></td></tr> +<tr><td>Master and Pupil. <span class="leftspace">$1.50.</span></td><td>Light from the Cross. <span class="leftspace">$1.50.</span></td></tr> +<tr><td>May Bell. <span class="leftspace">$1.50.</span></td><td>Contradictions. <span class="leftspace">$1.50.</span></td></tr> +</table> + + +<h3 class="prizes">New $500 Prize Series.</h3> + +<table class="twocols" summary="booklist"> +<tr><td>Short-Comings and Long-Goings. <span class="leftspace">$1.25.</span></td><td>The Flower by the Prison. <span class="leftspace">$1.25.</span></td></tr> +<tr><td>Lute Falconer. <span class="leftspace">$1.50.</span></td><td>Trifles. <span class="leftspace">$1.25</span></td></tr> +<tr><td>Hester’s Happy Summer. <span class="leftspace">$1.25.</span></td><td>The Judge’s Sons. <span class="leftspace">$1.50.</span></td></tr> +<tr><td>One Year of My Life. <span class="leftspace">$1.25.</span></td><td>Daisy Seymour. <span class="leftspace">$1.25.</span></td></tr> +<tr><td>Building-Stones. <span class="leftspace">$1.25.</span></td><td>Olive Loring’s Mission. <span class="leftspace">$1.25.</span></td></tr> +<tr><td>Susy’s Spectacles. <span class="leftspace">$1.25.</span></td><td>The Torch-Bearers. <span class="leftspace">$1.25.</span></td></tr> +<tr><td colspan="2" style="text-align: center">The Trapper’s Niece. <span class="leftspace">$1.25.</span></td></tr> +</table> + + +<h3 class="prizes">The $1000 Prize Series.</h3> + +<table class="twocols" summary="booklist"> +<tr><td>Striking for the Right. <span class="leftspace">$1.75.</span></td><td>Coming to the Light. <span class="leftspace">$1.50.</span></td></tr> +<tr><td>Walter Macdonald. <span class="leftspace">$1.50.</span></td><td>Ralph’s Possession. <span class="leftspace">$1.50.</span></td></tr> +<tr><td>The Wadsworth Boys. <span class="leftspace">$1.50.</span></td><td>Sunset Mountain. <span class="leftspace">$1.50.</span></td></tr> +<tr><td>Silent Tom. <span class="leftspace">$1.75.</span></td><td>The Old Stone House. <span class="leftspace">$1.50.</span></td></tr> +<tr><td>The Blount Family. <span class="leftspace">$1.50.</span></td><td>Golden Lines. <span class="leftspace">$1.50.</span></td></tr> +<tr><td>The Marble Preacher. <span class="leftspace">$1.50.</span></td><td>Luck of Alden Farm. <span class="leftspace">$1.50.</span></td></tr> +<tr><td>Evening Rest. <span class="leftspace">$1.50.</span></td><td>Glimpses Through. <span class="leftspace">$1.50.</span></td></tr> +<tr><td>Margaret Worthington. <span class="leftspace">$1.50.</span></td><td>Grace Avery’s Influence. <span class="leftspace">$1.50.</span></td></tr> +</table> + + +<p class="center">D. LOTHROP & CO., Publishers, Boston.</p> + + + + +<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[119]</a></span><a name="Lothrops_Historical_Library" id="Lothrops_Historical_Library"></a>Lothrop’s Historical Library.</h2> + +<p class="center">EDITED BY ARTHUR GILMAN, M. A.</p> + + +<table class="twocols" summary="booklist"> +<tr><td>AMERICAN PEOPLE.</td><td class="right">By Arthur Gilman, M. A.</td></tr> +<tr><td>INDIA.</td><td class="right">By Fannie Roper Feudge.</td></tr> +<tr><td>EGYPT.</td><td class="right">By Mrs. Clara Erskine Clement.</td></tr> +<tr><td>CHINA.</td><td class="right">By Robert K. Douglas.</td></tr> +<tr><td>SPAIN.</td><td class="right">By Prof. James Herbert Harrison.</td></tr> +<tr><td>SWITZERLAND.</td><td class="right">By Miss Harriet D. S. MacKenzie.</td></tr> +<tr><td>JAPAN, and its Leading Men.</td><td class="right">By Charles Lanman.</td></tr> +<tr><td>ALASKA: The Sitkan Archipelago.</td><td class="right">By Eliza Ruhamah Scidmore.</td></tr> +</table> + +<p class="center">Other volumes in preparation.</p> + +<hr class="mini" /> + +<p class="center"><i>Each volume</i> 12<i>mo, Illustrated, cloth</i>, $1.50.</p> + +<hr class="mini" /> + +<p class="center">D. LOTHROP & CO., Publishers,<br /> +Franklin and Hawley Streets, Boston.</p> + + + + +<div class="spareminute"> +<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[120]</a></span><a name="Spare_Minute_Series" id="Spare_Minute_Series"></a>Spare Minute Series.</h2> + + +<hr class="short" /> + +<h3>THOUGHTS THAT BREATHE.</h3> + +<p class="center">From Dean Stanley. Introduction by Phillips Brooks.</p> + + +<h3>CHEERFUL WORDS.</h3> + +<p class="center">From George MacDonald. Introduction by James T. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Lilith + The Legend of the First Woman + +Author: Ada Langworthy Collier + +Release Date: February 23, 2008 [EBook #24679] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LILITH *** + + + + +Produced by Irma Spehar, Markus Brenner and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This +file was produced from images generously made available +by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.) + + + + + + + LILITH + + + THE LEGEND OF THE FIRST WOMAN + + + BY + ADA LANGWORTHY COLLIER + + + BOSTON + D. LOTHROP AND COMPANY + FRANKLIN AND HAWLEY STREETS + + + + + COPYRIGHT, 1885. + D. LOTHROP & COMPANY. + + + + + PREFACE. + + + That Eve was Adam's second wife was a common Rabbinic + speculation. Certain commentators on Genesis adopted this view, + to account for the double account of the creation of woman, in + the sacred text, first in Genesis i. 27, and second in Genesis + xi. 18. And they say that Adam's first wife was named Lilith, + but she was expelled from Eden, and after her expulsion Eve was + created. Abraham Ecchelensis gives the following account of + Lilith and her doings: "There are some who do not regard + spectres as simple devils, but suppose them to be of a mixed + nature--part demoniacal, part human, and to have had their + origin from Lilith, Adam's first wife, by Eblis, prince of the + devils. This fable has been transmitted to the Arabs, from + Jewish sources, by some converts of Mohamet from Cabbalism and + Rabbinism, who have transferred all the Jewish fooleries to the + Arabs. They gave to Adam a wife formed of clay, along with Adam, + and called her Lilith, resting on the Scripture: 'Male and + female created He them.'"--_Legends of the Patriarchs and + Prophets.--Baring Gould._ + + Lilith or Lilis.--In the popular belief of the Hebrews, a female + spectre in the shape of a finely dressed woman, who lies in wait + for, and kills children. The old Rabbins turned Lilith into a + wife of Adam, on whom he begat demons and who still has power to + lie with men and kill children who are not protected by amulets + with which the Jews of a yet later period supply themselves as a + protection against her. Burton in his _Anatomy of Melancholy_ + tells us: "The Talmudists say that Adam had a wife called Lilis, + before he married Eve, and of her he begat nothing but devils." + A commentator on Skinner, quoted in the _Encyclopaedia + Metropolitana_, says that the English word _Lullaby_ is derived + from Lilla, abi (begone, Lilith)! In the demonology of the + Middle Ages, Lilis was a famous witch, and is introduced as such + in the Walpurgis night scene in Goethe's "Faust."--_Webster's + Dictionary._ + + Our word _Lullaby_ is derived from two Arabic words which mean + "Beware of Lilith!"--_Anon._ + + Lilith, the supposed wife of Adam, after she married Eblis, is + said to have ruled over the city of Damascus.--_Legends of the + Patriarchs and Prophets.--Baring Gould._ + +From these few and meagre details of a fabled existence, which are all +that the author has been able to collect from any source whatever, has +sprung the following poem. The poet feels quite justified in dissenting +from the statements made in the preceding extracts, and has not drawn +Lilith as there represented--the bloodthirsty sovereign who ruled +Damascus, the betrayer of men, the murderer of children. The Lilith of +the poem is transferred to the more beautiful shadow-world. To that +country which is the abode of poets themselves. And about her is wrapt +the humanizing element still, and everywhere embodied in the sweetest +word the human tongue can utter--_lullaby_. Some critics declare that +true literary art inculcates a lofty lesson--has a high moral purpose. +If poets and their work must fall under this rigorous rule, then alas +"Lilith" will knock at the door of public opinion with a trembling hand +indeed. If the poem have either moral aim or lesson of any kind (which +observe, gentle critic, it is by no means asserted that it has), it is +simply to show that the strongest intellectual powers contain no +elements adverse to the highest and purest exercise of the affectional +nature. That, in its true condition, the noblest, the most cultured +intellect, and the loveliest, sublimest moral and emotional qualities, +together weave the web that clothes the world's great soul with +imperishable beauty. The possessor of highest intellectual capacity will +be also capable of highest developments in the latter qualities. The +woman of true intellect is the woman of truest affection. For the rest +let Lilith speak, whose life dropped unrecorded from the earliest world. +It is the poet's hope that the chords of the mother-heart universal will +respond to the song of the childless one. That in the survival of that +one word _lullaby_, may be revivified the pathetic figure of one whose +home, whose hope, whose Eden passed to another. Whose name living in the +terrors of superstitious peoples, now lingers in Earth's sweetest +utterance. That Pagan Lilith, re-baptized in the pure waters of maternal +love, shall breathe to heathen and Christian motherhood alike, that most +sacred love of Earth still throbbing through its tender lullaby. + + A. L. C. + + + + + TO VALERIA. + + + Broideries and ancient stuffs that some queen + Wore; nor gems that warriors' hilts encrusted; + Nor fresh from heroes' brows the laurels green; + Nor bright sheaves by bards of eld entrusted + To earth's great granaries--I bring not these. + Only thin, scattered blades from harvests gleaned + Erewhile I plucked, may happen thee to please. + So poor indeed, those others had demeaned + Themselves to cull; or from their strong, firm hands + Down dropped about their feet with careless laugh, + Too broken for home gathering, these strands, + Or else more useless than the idle chaff. + But I have garnered them. Yet, lest they seem + Unworthy, and so shame Love's offering, + Amid the loose-bound sheaf stray flowers gleam. + And fairer seeming make the gift I bring, + Lilies blood-red, that lit the waving field, + And now are knotted through the golden grain. + Thou wilt not scorn the tribute I now yield, + Nor even deem the foolish flowers vain. + So take it, and if still too slight, too small + It seem, think 'tis a bloom that grew anear, + In other Springtime, the old garden wall. + (That pale blue flower you will remember, dear. + The heedless world, unseeing, passed it by, + And left it to the bee and you.) Then say, + "Because the hands that tended it are nigh + No more, and little feet are gone away + That round it trampled down the beaded grass, + Sweeter to me it is than musky spray + Of Southland; and dearer than days that pass + In other summer-tides." This simple song + Read so, dear heart; Nay, rather white-souled one, + Think 'tis an olden echo, wandered long + From a low bed where 'neath the westering sun + You sang. And if your lone heart ever said + "Lo, she is gone, and cannot more be mine," + Say now, "She is not changed--she is not wed,-- + She never left her cradle bed. Still shine + The pillows with the print of her wee head." + So, mother-heart, this song, where through still rings + The strain you sang above my baby bed, + I bring. An idle gift mayhap, that clings + About old days forgotten long, and dead. + This loitering tale, Valeria, take. + Perchance 'tis sad, and hath not any mirth, + Yet love thou it, for the weak singer's sake, + And hold it dear, though yet is little worth, + This tale of Elder-world: of earth's first prime, + Of years that in their grave so long have lain, + To-day's dull ear, through poets' tuneful rhyme + No echo hears, nor mocking friar's strain. + + _July_ 17, 1884. + + + + + LILITH. + + BOOK I. + + + Pure as an angel's dream shone Paradise. + Blue mountains hemmed it round; and airy sighs + Of rippling waters haunted it. Dim glades, + And wayward paths o'erflecked with shimmering shades, + And tangled dells, and wilding pleasances, + Hung moist with odors strange from scented trees. + Sweet sounds o'erbrimmed the place; and rare perfumes, + Faint as far sunshine, fell 'mong verdant glooms. + In that fair land, all hues, all leafage green + Wrapt flawless days in endless summer-sheen. + Bright eyes, the violet waking, lifted up + Where bent the lily her deep, fragrant cup; + And folded buds, 'gainst many a leafy spray-- + The wild-woods' voiceless nuns--knelt down to pray. + There roses, deep in greenest mosses swathed, + Kept happy tryst with tropic blooms, sun-bathed. + No sounds of sadness surged through listening trees: + The waters babbled low; the errant bees + Made answer, murmurous; nor paled the hue + The jonquils wore; nor chill the wild breath grew + Of daisies clustered white in dewy croft; + Nor fell the tasseled plumes as satin soft + Upon the broad-leaved corn. Sweet all the day + O'erflowed with music every woodland way; + And sweet the jargonings of nested bird, + When light the listless wind the forest stirred. + Straight as the shaft that 'gainst the morning sun + The slender palm uprears, the Fairest one-- + The first of womankind--sweet Lilith--stood, + A gracious shape that glorified the wood. + About her rounded shoulders warm and bare, + Like netted sunshine fell her lustrous hair; + The rosy flush of young pomegranate bells + Dawned on her cheeks; and blue as in lone dells + Sleep the Forget-me-nots, her eyes. With bent + Brows, sullen-creased, swart Adam gazed intent + Upon a leopard, crouched low in its place + Beneath his feet. Not once in Lilith's face + He looked, nor sought her wistful, downcast eyes + With shifting shadows dusk, and strange surprise. + "O, Love," she said, "no more let us contend! + So sweet is life, anger, methinks, should end. + In this, our garden bright, why dost thou claim + Ever the highest place, the noblest name? + Freely to both our Lord gave self-same sway + O'er living things. Love, thou art gone astray! + Twin-born, of equal stature, kindred soul + Are we; like dowed with strength. Yon stars that roll + Their course above, down-looking on my face, + See yours as fair; in neither aught that's base. + Thy wife, not handmaid I, yet thou dost say, + 'I first in Eden rule.' Thou, then, hast sway. + Must I, my Adam, mutely follow thee? + Run at thy bidding, crouch beside thy knee? + Lift up (when thou dost bid me) timid eyes? + Not so will Lilith dwell in Paradise." + "Mine own," Adam made answer soft, "'twere best + Thou didst forget such ills in noontide rest. + Content I wake, the keeper of the place. + Of equal stature? Yea! Of self-same grace? + Nay, Love; recall those lately vanished eves, + When we together plucked the plantain leaves; + Yon leopard lowly stretched at my command + Its lazy length beneath my soothing hand. + At thee she snarled, disdaining half, to sheathe + 'Neath thy soft pleading eyes her milk-white teeth. + Oft, Love, in other times, in sheltered nook, + We scattered pearly millet by the brook. + Lo thine lay barren in the sand. Quick mine + Upspringing sifts o'er pale blooms odors fine: + Hateful thy chidings grow; each breeze doth bring + Ever thy plaints--thy fretful murmuring. + These many days I weary of thy sighs; + Know, Lilith, I alone rule Paradise." + Thereat he rose, and quick at every stride + The fawning leopard gambolled at his side. + So fell the first dark shadow of Earth's strife. + With coming evil all the winds were rife. + Lone lay the land with sense of dull loss paled. + The days grew sick at heart; the sunshine failed; + And falling waters breathed in silvery moan + A hidden ail to starlit dells alone-- + As sometimes you have seen, 'neath household eaves, + 'Mong scents of Springtime, in the budded leaves, + The swallows circling blithe, with slant brown wing, + Home-flying fleet, with tender chattering, + And all the place o'errun with nested love-- + So have you come, when leaves hung crisp above + The silent door. Yet not again, I ween, + Those shining wings, cleaving the air, have seen + Nor heard the gladsome swallows twittering there-- + Only the empty nests, low-hung and bare, + Spake of the scattered brood.--So lonely were + To Lilith grown her once loved haunts. Nor fair + The starlit nights, slow-dropping fragrant dew, + Nor the dim groves when dawn came shifting through. + Far 'mong the hills the wood-doves' moan she heard, + Or in some nearer copse, a startled bird; + Or the white moonshine 'mong green boughs o'erhead + Wrought her full heart to tears. "Sweet peace," she said, + "Alas--lies slain!" + With musing worn, she brake + At last her silence, and to Adam spake: + "Beyond these walls I know not what may be-- + Islands low-fringed, or bare; or tranquil sea, + Spaces unpeopled, wastes of burning sands, + Green-wooded belts, enclasping summer lands, + Or realms of dusky pines, or wolds of snow, + Or jagged ice-peaks wrapt in purple glow, + Or shadowy oceans lapped in fadeless sheen-- + Yet there were Paradise, were Lilith queen. + To dally with my lord I was not meant; + To soothe his idle whims, above him bent, + Warm in my milk-white arms, lull his repose, + Nor deep in subtle kisses drown his woes. + Wherefore, since here no more dwells love, I fly + To seek my home in other lands. For why + Should Lilith wait since Adam's empty state + More dear he holds than Lilith desolate?" + But answer soft made Adam at the word, + For faint his dying love, yet coldly stirred + Its ashen cerements: "Nay, love, our home + Within these garden walls lies safe. Wouldst roam + Without? Sweet peace, by loss, wilt thou restore + One little loss, or miss it evermore?" + "In goodly Eden, Adam, safely bide, + But I, for peace, nor love, nor life," she cried, + "Submit to thee. Unto our Lord I own + Allegiance true; my homage his alone. + Oft have I watched the mists athwart yon peaks, + Pursuing oft past coves and winding creeks, + Have thought to touch their shining veil outspread, + In happy days ere Love, alas, was dead; + So now, farewell! Ere the new day shall break + Adown their gleaming track, my way I take." + She turned; but ere the gate that looked without + She reached, one fleeting moment paused in doubt + Upon a river's brink. In one swift glance + All coming time she saw. A weird romance + Wherein she traced great peoples yet unborn, + New springing cycles, strange lands cleft with tarn + Or pleasant vale, and green plains stretching far, + And quiet bays, and many a shingly bar, + And troubled seas, with bitter perils past, + And elfin shapes that jeering flitted fast + With scornful faces, leering lips that smiled, + Or bursts of laughter through that vision wild. + Uncertain, then, she stood, half loth to turn. + "Against yon deepening sky, how dimly burn + The stars, new-lit. Dear home, thou art so fair!" + She fondly sighed. + Then sudden she was 'ware + The angel near her paused, whose watchful care + Guards Eden's peaceful bounds. Serene, his air + So tender-sweet, so pure the gentle face, + She scarce dared look upon its subtle grace. + Sad were his eyes; his words, rebuking, fell + Soft as the moonshine clear, in sleeping dell. + "My sister, go not hence, lest these gates bar + Lilith forever out. From peace afar, + Anger and pride shall lead through distant ways + Thy feet reluctant, in the evil days. + All is decreed. At yonder southern gate + Behold! waits even now my princely mate. + Thou can'st not tell which hath in our far land + The highest place. Nay; nor, indeed, whose hand + Hath grasped the noblest fame; nor yet divine + Whose brows enwound with honor, brightest shine. + In pleasant labor lurks no thought of pain; + The greatest loss oft brings the noblest gain; + The heart's warm pulse feels not one throb of strife, + And Love is holiest crown of human life. + Ere thou didst sleep, beyond the rim of night + I heard a voice that sang. The carol light, + Scarce earth-born seemed. So sweet the matchless strain, + Its cadence weird, lowly to breathe again, + Wrapt echo, listening, half forgot; and o'er + And o'er, as joyous birds unprisoned soar, + The free notes rose. And in the silence wide, + Across the seas, across the night, I cried: + O sinless soul, whose clear voice blithely rings + 'Gainst the blue verge of stars! 'Tis Lilith sings + The happy song of love. O Love! the tint + Of light divine thou wearest. Thou hast no hint + Of storm or turmoil, or of Sin's rough ways, + Whose feet to heaven climb, through darkest maze. + Ah, Lilith, sure the love that basely weighs, + That stoops to count its gifts, and hoarding, says, + 'Such and so many, these indeed are mine; + I hold my treasure dear, nor covet thine;' + This is not love; 'tis Thrift in borrowed dress, + Deceiving thee. Love giveth free largess + With open hand, clean as the whitest day; + Yea, that it gave, forgetteth it straightway. + Beyond these walls dwells bliss that lives not here? + When thou hast bartered peace, outshining clear + And storm-tossed wide, art wildly driven hence, + The outer world gives thee no recompense. + Each shining sphere that trembles in blue space + Hath orbit true--its own familiar place. + Nor doth the planet pale that gems the night + Reel wanton down, the smallest star to smite. + No twining vine, tendril, or springing shoot + Ere taught thee so; for bud and leaf and root + Doth its best self lift upward into light, + Yet climbing still, scorns not the sacred right + That shrines its fellow. + "So pattering rains + The dark roots drink--and healthful juice slow drains + Deep 'neath the mould; and with their secret toil + Bear stainless, leaf and flow'r above the soil. + Noblest the soul that self hath most forgot; + Strongest the self which hath most humbly wrought; + Purest the soul that in full light serene, + Unquestioning, enwrapt, God's field doth glean. + I have seen worlds far hence; thy tender feet + Bleeding, will tread their stony ways. And sweet + Is love. And wedded love, grown cold and rude, + More bitter-seeming makes dull solitude. + Security is sweet; and light and warm + The young heart beats, close shut from every harm." + "Yet," Lilith answered slow, "in that still night + Ere He, the garden's Lord, passed from our sight, + Hast thou forgot his words? 'Lo this fair spot + Made for your pleasance; see ye mar it not, + Oh, twin-born pair! So richly dight with grace + Of soul and stature; unto whom the place + I give. Together rule. Bear equal sway + O'er all that live herein.' Hath Lilith sought + A solitary reign? Hath she in aught + Offended? Nay; 'tis Adam who doth break + The compact. Therefore, unhindered let me take + My way far hence. I shall not vex his soul + With fretful plaints, where unknown stars shall roll, + Far, far away," she sighed. + "Yet ere these bounds + Thy feet pass, linger. Lilith, list glad sounds + That greet thine ear. Slow cycles will pass on + And in the time-to-be-bright years, grow wan; + Old planets fade, new stars shall dimly burn, + But not to Eden's peace shalt thou return. + Oft from thy yearning heart glad hope shall fail. + Thy fruit of life lift bloom all sere and pale. + Certain, small comfort bides, when joy is gone, + In Great or Less. Grim Sorrow waits to lead thee on. + Sorrow! Thou hast not seen her pallid face. + In thy most troubled dream she had no place"-- + "Nay, I depart," she said, with lips grown chill. + "Fearless and free, exiled, but princess still." + "I may not hinder thee," the Angel sighed; + "No soul unwilling here may ever bide." + Slow swung the verdant gates neath saddest eyes. + _Lilith forever lost fair Paradise._ + + + + + BOOK II. + + + Soft stealing through the shade, and skirting swift + The walls of Paradise, through night's dark rift + Lilith fled far; nor stopped lest deadly snare + Or peril by the wayside lurked. + The air + Grew chill. Loud beat her heart, as through the wind + Echoed, unseen, pursuing feet, behind. + + Adown the pathway of the mist she passed, + And reached a weird, strange land at last. + When morning flecked the dappled sky with red, + And odors sweet from waking flowers were shed, + Lilith beheld a plain, outstretching wide, + With distant mountains seamed. + Afar, a silvery tide + The blue shore kissed. And in that tropic glow + Dim islands shone, palm-fringed, and low. + In nearer space, like scarlet arrows flew + Strange birds, or 'mong the reedy fens, or through + Tall trees, of unknown leafage, glancing, went. + Now Lilith seaward passed, and stooping, bent + Her hollowed hand above the wave, and quaffed; + For she was spent with wanderings wide. Loud laughed + She then, beholding on that silent shore + Rare shells, that still faint in their pink lips bore + Wild ocean-songs; and precious stones, that bright + That dim sea's marge, deep in the land of night + Thick strewed. + Then glad, she lifted shining eyes, + Loud crying there, "O Lilith, now arise, + Great queen-triumphant! See how wildly fair + Before me lies my realm! And from its air + Soft, sensuous, new life as ruddy wine, + My spirit drinks. Nor beauty so divine + Hath Eden's self. Look, where upon the sands + The garish mosses spread with dainty hands, + Like goblin network fine, each fairy frond. + And dusky trees shut in broad fields beyond, + And hang long trembling garlands, age-grown-gray, + From topmost boughs adown, athwart the day; + And sweet amid these wilds, bright dewy bells + Ring summer chimes. And soft in fragrant dells, + 'Mong tender leaves, great spikes of scarlet flaunt + About the pools--the errant wild bees' haunt-- + And thick with bramble-blooms pink petals starred, + And dew-stained buds of blue, the velvet sward. + Scarce ripple stirred the sea; and inland wend + Far bays and sedgy ponds; and rolling rivers bend. + A land of leaf and fruitage in the glow + Of palest glamours steeped. And far and low + Great purple isles; and further still a rim + Of sunset-tinted hills, that softly dim + Shine 'gainst the day. "O world, new found," she said, + "With treasures heaped and odors rare, 'mong flowers shed, + For whose dear sake I came o'er flinty ways, + And paths with danger fraught; 'mong brambly sprays, + With bleeding feet, and shoulders thorn-pierced deep. + But perils past, fade fast. And I will weep + My Eden lost no more." And sweet and low + As one who dreams, she said, "For now I know + These mountain heights, these level plains, are mine." + She ceased, and inland quickly turned. "Fair shine + Strange fruits thick-set, or blossoms lightly tossed + Low at my feet." Therewith, a dusk globe, crossed + With golden bands, from bent boughs, stripped she. Through + The gleaming sphere its nectrous juices drew, + And thirsting cried--as one grown drunken: "Mine + These fruits unknown, in thorny combs that shine, + Or gray-green spikes that glow, dull on the sands. + Fain would I pluck, out-reaching eager hands, + Save that a marvel grows of ruddier rind + Out-flinging fruity breath upon the wind, + Beneath harsh spines half-hid. Nor drains + My wilful spouse such nectars fine. Nor gains + His patient care the fruitage rare, these plains + That heaps unheeded. Nay, nor bearded grains + Golding this goodly land, where Lilith reigns." + + So passed the glad years on, and o'er her home-- + Its woods and mountains, its clear streams--to roam, + She loved. The inmost throb of Nature's heart + She felt amid the grass. Each daintiest part + Of Nature's work she knew; each gain, each loss. + And reverent watched on high the starry cross + Gleaming, mute symbol in that southern dome + Of One--the Promised One--of days to come. + + The rifted sea-shell on the shingly beach + She scanned, pitying each inmate gone. Each + Named. 'Mong beetling crags, the sea-bird's home, + Light-footed, went. Or, idly, in the foam + Under the cocoa-palms, her fingers dipped, + Much marveling to see where featly slipped + Beneath the waves scaled creatures, crimson-dyed + Or luminous: Barred-yellow, purple pied, + Rose-tinted, opaline, or dight with stain, + Rich as the rainbow streaks, when through the rain + The Sun's kiss falls. Much wondered she when bright + By sedgy pools, flamingoes stalked. And light + The startled ostrich bent his headlong flight + O'er desert bare. And on the woody height + Trooped zebras, velvet-brown. The date's green crest + Beneath, the peaceful camels lay at rest. + And slender-straight camelopards the boughs + Down-drew, the lush-green leaves thereon to browse. + Or oft 'mong oozy bogs, or through the fens, + Fearless she went, when low, 'mong reedy dens + The water-courses by, huge creatures slept, + Or in the jungles spotted panthers crept, + And in the thickets deadly serpents wound + Like blossomed wreaths, their coils upon the ground. + All forms of life she saw; with tenderest care + Uplifting humblest sprays, or blooms most rare. + Pierced the deep heart of Nature's subtlest lore, + Touched highest knowledge, probed the inmost core + Of hidden things. She tracked each circling world + And the wide sweep of billows lightly curled. + Each page the Master writ she read, close furled + In lotus blooms, or, 'mong the storm-clouds whirled; + Or traced, star-lettered, on the flaming scroll + The night unwinds toward the southern pole. + And sometimes wiling idle days, she wove + In quaint device, gems from her treasure-trove, + Rare garlanded, or set in flashing zone + Soft emerald, sapphire pale, and many a stone + Out-gleaming amethyst. Her yellow hair + Among, the glinting diamonds shone. And there + The sultry topaz burned. And laughing, twined + She round her bare white throat red rubies shrined + In pearls. + Or she among the haunts would rove + That sheltered island birds; or in the grove, + Or 'mong the rocky cliffs, where dainty nests + They fashioned swift. She scaled the seaward crests, + And on the sands piled turtle eggs, when all + About hoarse-shrieked the water-fowl, or call + Of plovers fell among the tangled glens, + Or lonely bitterns' boom came o'er the fens. + So traversed she her realm, when mangoes green + Baobabs by, showed freshest hues; and sheen + Of silver touched acacias slight; and lone + The solitary aloes, dreamed. The moan + Of that far sea against the shore brake soft. + And through that blossom-burdened land as oft + She roamed and far, sweet sped the passing days. + Till one dawned fairest, in whose noon-tide haze + Sweet slumbering she lay; and dreamed-steeped still, + Half conscious, caught the tinkle of a rill + In far-off Paradise. More silver clear + Across her thoughts, as once she loved to hear, + Rippled the waters, low against the stones + Where poised gemmed dragon-flies; and sudden moans + Shook 'mong blue flags. Waked, vague unrest + And tender yearning rose within her breast, + And longing love, that she ne'er more might still. + When late upon her parting day smiled chill, + Pensive she gazed upon the darkling land, + With lingering feet o'er-passed the shining strand, + And silent sat on an o'erhanging ledge, + The sea o'erlooking. Far the horizon's edge + Athwart her gaze a rim of blue hills cleft, + Whereat she sighed. "So rose, ere I them left, + So smiled, the dim hills round my Eden home. + But I--wherefore recall, when far I roam, + Dreams vanished--gone? And now since long time dead + Is that fair past, I fain would lay it low + Where soft about it memories sweet may blow + As summer winds the fallen leaves among." + Then passed her tender thoughts, and loud and glad + As our morn wakens, strong that yesternight slept sad, + She sang. The song triumphant upward swelled, + Unsorrowed by soft dreams or thoughts of eld-- + As fresh the full, free, mellow notes did rise + As the blithe skylark's strain, anear the skies: + + High, high, bold Eagle, soar; + I watch thy flight, above thy cragged rock. + Below thee, torrents roar, + Down-bursting wild with angry shock + Upon the vales. O proud bird, free, + My spirit, mounting, follows thee, + Still follows thee, still follows thee. + + O Sea--O Sea so wide! + Far roll thy waves ere yet they find thy shore. + I hear thy sullen tide + Break 'neath the beetling cliffs with muffled roar. + Afar, afar, O moaning Sea, + My roving soul still follows thee, + Still follows thee, still follows thee. + + O Whirlwind black--O strong! + Thy scorching breath fierce burns the crouching land + And thou dost sweep along + The raveled clouds. O Whirlwind, see-- + My spirit rising, follows thee, + Still follows thee, still follows thee. + + Nay, nay! My dauntless soul, + Still higher than thy wing, O Eagle, soars, + And wider still than roll + Thy waves, and further than thy shores, + My spirit flees--O Sea--O Sea + No more it follows, follows thee. + + Whirlwind, more strong than thou + My soul, that fearless leaps to thine embrace + And thy stern, wrinkled brow + Doth tender touch and soothingly, + And vassal art thou still to me, + That no more, Whirlwind, follows thee. + + Swift changed her mood, and darkened in her face. + As sometimes in an open, sunny place + The sudden dusks o'er crinkling waters run, + So fell her thoughts to music. And as one + That grieves, she sang. That lay--soft, weirdly clear, + The babbling waves made murmurous pause to hear: + + Fair land (she sang), O sun-steeped realm of mine, + The Sun, thy lover, hath his farewell kiss. + I only pine + While dim stars shine. + + Strong is thy Day-god! yet his parting kiss + Falls soft upon thy faltering lips. O land, + Thou hast a bliss + I ever miss. + + Fast comes the night, and warm, for thy dear sake, + The shadows curtain dusk, thy lonely rest. + I only wake + My plaint to make. + + Fair land, my lover cold, doth careless take + From my shut lips his flight. Here leaves me lone + My moan to make, + My heart to break. + + She ceased. But still the song did float and fade, + As failing sunshine soft, in woodland glade. + And Lilith, listening, heard--so wild, so shrill, + Yet dream-like, far, again that tinkling rill + In Paradise. And o'er her spirit swept + A sadness bitter-sweet, as 'neath the green palms crept + The wind, low-sighing, faint. As from lone nest + A bird torn pinion lifts, striving to soar + To shelter safe, so, Edenward once more + Turned Lilith's drooping thoughts. + Uprose she then, + And brooding, homeward slowly went again. + + + + + BOOK III. + + + Wide through her realm she walked, and glad or lorn + She mused. So, loitering, it chanced one morn + When lone she sat upon a mountain height, + One sudden stood anear, whose dark eyes bright + Upon her shone. Pallid his face, and red + His smileless lips. "Who art thou?" Lilith said, + And faint a hidden pain her hot heart stirred, + When low, and rarely sweet, his voice she heard. + She looked, half-pleased--and half in strange surprise + Shrank 'neath the gaze of those wild, starry eyes. + "Oh, dame," the stranger said, "where waters leap + Bright glancing down, I rested oft, where steep + Thy Eden o'er, bare-browed, a peak uprose. + Naught craving bloom or fruitage--nay, nor those + Frail joys Adam holds dear. One only boon + I sought of all his heritage. Fair 'neath the moon + I saw thee stand; and all about thy feet + The night her perfume spilled, soft incense meet. + Then low I sighed, when grew thy beauty on my sight, + 'Some comfort yet remains, if that I might + From Adam pluck this perfect flower. Some morn-- + If I (some dreamed-of morn, perchance slow-born) + This flawless bloom, white, fragrant, lustrous, pure + For ever on my breast might hold secure.' + Yea, for thy love, through darkling realms of night + I followed thee, sharing thy fearful flight + Unseen. Lo, when thy timid heart, behind + Heard echoing phantom feet upon the wind, + 'Twas I, pursuing o'er the day's last brink; + Wherefore, I now am here. O Lilith, think + How over-much I love thee, and how sweet + Were life with thee! O weary naked feet, + With me each onward path wilt thou not tread? + Or, if thou endest here thy quest," he said, + "Let me too bide with thee." + Made answer low + Lilith thereto: "Meseems not long ago + One stood at Eden's gate like thee. But thy face + Is darker, red thy lips. Of kingly race + I know thee. Say, whence comest thou, O prince?" + "Nay, then," he sighed, "an outcast I, long since + From Heaven thrust out; yet now, the curse is past, + Nor mourn I Heaven lost, if at the last + Thy love I win. Yea, where thou art, I know + Is Heaven. And bliss, in sooth" (oh, soft and low, + He said), "lives ever in thy smile." + His speech + Thus ended. And toward the sandy beach + He passed. Though long her eyes the stranger sought + Where curved the distant shore, she saw him not. + + Soft through the trees the mottled shadows dropped + When Lilith in her pleasance sat. Half-propped + 'Gainst mossy trunk her slender length. Her hair + In sunny web, enmeshed her elbows bare. + Slowly the breeze swayed the mimosas slight + As Eblis pushed aside the bent boughs light. + "O dame," he said, "it seemeth surely meet + Earth's richest gifts to lay at Lilith's feet; + Therefore I said 'unto the fairest one, + Things loveliest beneath the shining sun + I bring.' Since of all crafts in this young earth + I am true master, unto her whose worth + So much deserves, I bear this marble sphere, + Whose hollowed husk, well polished, gleaming clear, + Hides rarest fruit." Therewith the globe he showed, + The half whereof smooth-sparkling was: Half glowed + With carven work; embossed with pale leaves light, + And delicately sculptured birds in flight, + And clustered flowers frail. Lilith drew near + With beaming eyes, and laid the graven sphere + Against her smiling lips; o'ertraced the vine + That circled it with fingers slim. "Mine, mine + Is it, O prince?" she cried. "I know not why + Its beauty doth recall the winds' long sigh + That surged among the palms. Methinks is dead + Some summer-tide, that in its own sweet stead + Hath left upon the stone its imaging." + Eblis replied: "On earth, is anything + More fair? If such thou knowest, Lilith, speak. + That I, for thee, surely would straightway seek. + Say, if indeed thou findest anywhere, + On land or sea, created things so rare?" + And Lilith answered, "On this earth so round, + Naught else so lovely anywhere I found. + So shames it meaner work--so had I said-- + But see yon nodding palm that droops its head + Low sighing o'er the wave. Bring me a bough + So feathery-fine. Turn thy white sphere! Now + On its cold, fair surface, Eblis, canst thou + Such branches carve, or tender fronds, that we + Bright waving on the cocoa, these may see?" + And Eblis wrought till grew upon the stone + Such airy boughs as on the cocoa shone. + Then Lilith cried: "Skilled craftsman, proven thou! + Didst thou, then, make my cocoa-tree? Thy bough + Pale graven give the grace of its green crown + When through it night winds gently slip adown. + No charm of color, nor of change, nor glow + Of blue noon sky, thy carven work doth show; + Let dusk bees visit it--or sip the breath + From thy chill marble buds." Then, Lilith saith, + "Eblis hath wroughten noblest on this earth." + He answered quick, "Poor bauble, little worth + To Lilith! Ope thy slighted husk, reveal + The miracle thy rough rind doth conceal!" + + He touched a hidden spring, and wide apart + The riven sphere showed its white hollow heart, + And in the midst a gem; the which he laid + Within her hand. "Behold," he said, "I made + Most fair for thee this lustrous blood-red sard, + And deftly traced its gleaming surface hard + With carvings thick of bright acacias slim, + Pomegranates lush and river-reeds. Its rim + A spray of leaves enchased, white as with rime + Night fallen. 'Slow drags the lagging time,' + I said, 'till one day shines upon the breast + Of her, whose perfect beauty worthiest + It decks, this gem.' The token, Lilith, take; + If lovelier there be, for Eblis' sake + Keep silent; yet with me, oh Lilith, go + Awhile from thine own land. Then shall I know + The gem finds favor in thine eyes." + Then she + Turned from her pleasance and all silently + Passed to the sea, across the yellow strand + That, glimmering, ringed her shadowy land. + "Oh cool," he said, "the lucent waves that fret + The barren shore, and curl their scattered spray wet + 'Gainst thy hand. Come! my longing pinnace waits + To bear thee far. Her slender keel now grates + Upon the beach; and swift her shapely prow + Will skim the deep, as swallows' fleet wing. Thou + Seest! comely and strong it is. For thee + Its golden sails, its purple canopy. + With skin of spotted pard, I cushioned it. + Ere the fresh breeze doth die, light let us flit + Across the sea. No craft so proud, so staunch, + Goes glancing through the foam. I safely launch + Her now, and speed to fairy isles. Come thou + With me." And glad she crossed the burnished prow; + And 'mong the thick furred rugs sat down. "Oh craft, + Fair fashioned, lightly built, speed far," she laughed; + "To other lands bear Lilith safe." + As sailed + They idly on, her slender hand she trailed + Among the waves, and sudden cried, "Indeed, + A craft stauncher than thine floats by. What need + Hath it of helm, or prow, or silken sail, + Sure harbor finding when the ocean gale + Fast drives it onward?" A nut she drew, round, + Rough, coarse-husked, forth from the wave. "Lo, I found," + She said, "this boat well built. The cocoa-tree + Cast it amid the foam. Its pilot free, + The summer wind; its port, the misty shore + Of ocean isles. It fades from sight. 'No more,' + We say, 'it sails the wild uncertain main,' + But when the drifting days are gone, again + We turn our prow, and reach the barren isles + Where, stranded as we went, the nut. Now smiles + Above; a bending tree. Aloud we cry, + 'A miracle is wrought!' We draw anigh. + Behold, the cocoa, towering, doth spring + Forth from the brown nut's heart. About it cling + Sweet odors faint; and far stars trembling peep. + When through its bowers cool the breezes creep. + Strong, indeed, thy boat, well builded! I wis + There be yet other craft as firm, Eblis, + That o'er these trackless waters boldly glide. + Brave Nautilus afar, doth fearless ride, + With sails of gossamer. So, too, doth spread, + To summer airs, his silken gleaming thread, + The water-spider fleet, free sailor true + That in the sunshine floats, beneath the blue, + Glad skies. And through the deep, all sparkling, slip + A thousand insect-swarms, that, rippling, dip + Amid the merry waves. Bright voyagers + That roam the sultry seas! Look, the wind stirs + Our creaking sails! Thy pinnace flying o'er + The ocean's swell, fast leaves the fading shore; + Yet faster still the Nautilus sails by, + And darts the spider quick. And swifter fly + The insect-fleets among the foam; yet think + Not when among the billows wild doth sink + Thy bounding boat, I fear. Nor would I slight + Thy skill, that made it strong, and swift, and light, + And trimmed it gayly, for my sake." + Now near + A jutting shore Prince Eblis drew, where sheer + The brown rocks rose. And just beyond, a slim + Beach of white sand curved to the ocean's brim. + Thereto he came, and high upon the strand + Drew the boat's keel. "Welcome, fair queen, to land + That Eblis rules," he said. "I fain would show + Thee what thou hast not seen in the warm glow + Of thy glad home. This blighted shore of mine + No verdure hath, nor bloom, nor fruits that shine + 'Mong drooping boughs. Far inland gloom lone peaks + O'er blackened meads; or from their bare cones leaps + Gaunt, crackling flame; or crawl like ashen veins + The smouldering fires across the stricken plains. + Deep in these yawning caves black shadows lie + That shall be lifted never more. Come, I + Enter! Know thou what treasure by the sea + I gathered other time." Therewith showed he + Hid 'mong the high heaped rocks a dusky grot + Where never sunshine fell. A dismal spot + Where dank the sea-weeds coiled and cold the air + Swept through. And stooping, Eblis downward rolled + Before her webs of woven stuff, in fold + Of purple sheen, enwrought with flecks of gold. + Great wefts of scarlet and of blue, thick strewn + With pearls, or cleft with discs of jacinth stone; + And drifts of silky woof and samite white, + And warps of Orient hues. Eblis light + Wound round her neck a scarf of amber. Wide + Its smooth folds sweeping flowed; and proud he cried, + "Among these hills, in the still loom of night, + I wrought for Lilith's pleasing, all. And bright + Have spun these webs, in blended morning hues + And noontide shades and trail of silver dews-- + Hereon have set fair traceries of cloud-shine + And tints of the far vales. The textures fine + Glow with sweet thoughts of thee. And otherwhere + Hast thou such fabrics seen, or colors rare + As these?" Dawned in her eyes a swift delight, + And low she cried, "Oh, wondrous is the sight, + And much it pleaseth me. But yet," she said, + "Beside my knee one morn, its hooded head + A Hage reared. Its gliding shape so near + To subtler music moved, than my dull ear + Could catch. Its velvet skin I gently strake, + Watching the light that o'er its heaped coils brake + In glittering waves. Within its small, wise glance, + Flame silent slept, or quick in baleful dance + Before my startled gaze quivering did wake. + Fair is thy woof, soft woven, yet the snake + Out-dazzles it. The beetle that doth boom + Its dull life out among the tangled gloom, + Lift his wide wing above thy weft, or trail + His splendor there, and thy poor web will pale; + Yea, the red wayside lily that doth snare + The girdled bee, is softer still, more fair + Than finest woven cloth." But tenderly + She smoothed the gleaming folds. "Much pleaseth me, + Natlhess," she said, "such loveliness." Then brought + He tapestries of fleeces fine, well wrought + In colors soft as woodland mosses' tinge, + Or glow of autumn blooms: Heavy with fringe + Of downward sweeping gold; arras, where through + Showed mottled stripes, or arabesques of blue, + Broad zones of red, and tender grays, and hue + Of dropping leaves. "Lilith," he said, "when rolled + The storm-tossed billows round these caves, behold + I spun these daintily. 'Twere hard to find + Such twisted weft or woven strand." "Oh, kind," + She said, "is Eblis, unto whom I fain + Would give due thanks. His gorgeous train + But yesterday I saw the peacock spread; + Bright in the sun gleamed his small crested head; + His haughty neck wrinkled to green and blue, + And since I needs must truly speak, I knew + Not color rich as his: and I have seen + The curious nest among the branches green, + The busy weaver-bird plaits of thick leaves, + And in and out its pliant meshes weaves; + And since thou sayest 'twere hard to match thy fine, + Strong, woven fabrics, watch the weaver twine + His cunning wefts. Though still," she said, "think not + I scorn thy gifts, Prince Eblis; for I wot + Their worth is greater than my tongue can say." + Then Eblis deeper in the cave led her a little way, + And showed a stately screen of such fine art + One almost felt the breeze that seemed to part + The pictured boughs. And o'er the stirless lake + Dreamed the swift, wimpling waters sudden brake + Among the willows on its brink--and flowers + Of scarlet, shining-clean from summer showers; + And Eblis said, "Cold praise a friend should spare + This picture true. Certain naught else will dare + Vie with such beauty." + Archly Lilith took + The rose from her bright hair, and lightly shook + The dewdrop from its heart. "I loving, touch," + She said, "these petals smooth. O, Eblis, such + Give to thy painted blooms; give its cool sheen + Of morningtide, the mossy, lush leaves green + That fold it round. Give its faint, fragrant breath, + When with the fickle breeze it dallieth. + Nay, fairer still my rose than gilded screen, + Though it be limned with perfect art, I ween." + Thereat smiled Eblis bitterly. "I bring + One parting gift," he said, "a dainty thing; + Perchance in other time it will recall + One who strove long and patiently through all + These days to win thy praise." An oval plane + Of crystal gave he her; of fleck or stain + Clear-gleaming. Of ivory carven fine + The frame. And when she looked, "Divine," + He laughed, "the beauty it enshrines. Canst claim + Aught else is fairer?" And Lilith again + Gazed in the glass, her face beholding there, + Her pink flushed cheeks, her yellow streaming hair. + Quick came her breath. "O prince," she slowly said, + "Fair is the stranger. Bid those lips so red + Speak once to Lilith. For methinks the voice + Of such in music flowed. Let me rejoice + Therein." "O glorious counterfeit!" cried + He. "Lovelier is not on this earth wide! + Behold, sweet Lilith, 'tis thine own pure face + That lends my happy mirror perfect grace + It else had not. Bid thou thine image speak! + No other happiness I elsewhere seek, + If the soft tale she whispers be of me." + And Lilith answered gravely, "I know thee, + Eblis. Master indeed of all crafts thou-- + Red Sard, and marble sphere, and agile prow + Of pinnace light well wroughten were by thee + And decked full fair. And, beauteous to see, + Fine woven weft and web, and the tall screen + O'errun with painted bloom, crystal, with gleam + Of Lilith's face--thou madest these. Mayhap + Beetle and asp likewise didst tint--didst wrap + The green about my rose, and richly fringe + My cocoa-tree, or peacock's train didst tinge + With dazzling hues. Methought thou wert a prince, + But now Lilith should humbly kneel, since + Thou art far higher than she deemed, if thou + Madest these wondrous things." And lowly now + As she would kneel, she drew anigh. But he + Cried, shrinking, "Nay, I made them not." And she + Low questioned, "Eblis, tell me who then, did make + Them all. Who set the creeping hooded snake + And stealthy pard within the thorny brake, + And spread the sea, and wreathed the waterfall + With foam? Who reared the hoar hills, towering tall + Above the lands?" With eyes wild flashing, low + He groaned: "O Lilith, ask me not. My foe + He was--he is. Trembles with wrath my frame + If I but faintly breathe his awful name." + Lilith replied, "Meseemeth, master true + Of every craft is He." + Forth the two + From that drear cavern passed. Ere the water's brim + They gained, he plucked the wilding reeds, that slim + Stood by a brook. "My pipe I make, one strain + Harmonious to wake. Nor yet again + Shalt thou such fresh notes hear. Music like mine + Methinks thou hast not known in any time." + He laid his pipe unto his lips, and blew + A blast, wild, piercing, sweet. The far hills through + It rung. And softer fell, yet wild and clear. + It ceased. With drooping eyes, "Once I did hear + A song as wildly clear, as sad," she said, + "In mine own realm." And as she spoke, dark dread + The sky grew with a coming storm. "Oh, haste," + He cried; "seek refuge ere this dreary waste + Reeks with the rain!" And fast they sped + Back to his ocean-cave. There safe, o'erhead + They watched the piling clouds. With angry roar + The baffled billows broke upon the rocks. O'er + Them rushed the shrieking storm. Wild through the grot + Wandered the prisoned wind, a troubled ghost that sought + Repose. Or low did moan, and trembling, wail, + Like some sore-hearted thing that hideth, pale, + And dare not front the day; and wilder still, + In chords melodious, swelled or sank, until + She sighed, "Oh, this weird harp among the caves, + Strange players hath! For loud as one that raves, + It rises. Now more sweetly fade away + Its mellow notes than thy thin pipes." "One day," + He said, "mayhap my strain may please, when wind + Doth not outpipe my slighted reeds. Unkind + Thou art." "The storm is past; to mine own land + I would return," she said. And Eblis o'er the strand + Led her. And homeward silent turned his prow + That swiftly through the swirling waves did plow. + But when they parted, Eblis mused, "I know + No gift soever winneth her, rich though + It be and seemly. Into this pure soul, + Through fear of ill, I enter; or by goal + Of future gain before it set." + So came + He to her pleasance yet again. A flame + Leaped high above a brazier that he bore, + Its sweet, white, scented wood quick lapping o'er. + With darkened face Eblis above her hung. + "This hath, than my poor pipe, a keener tongue," + Smileless and stern, he said. "Oh, dame, + List how the wild, crisp, crackling ruby flame + Eats through the tender boughs. A trusty knave + It is, that serves me well, and loud doth rave + As tiger caged. When I do set it free, + With angry fangs leaps on its prey. But see, + It now sleeps harmlessly, till Eblis calls + His faithful servant back. Lilith, when falls + The red fire at thy feet, dost fear?" "Nay, nay," + She cried, and drew her white neck up. "A way + To tame it thou hast found. Believe me, since + It is thy slave I too will bind it, prince. + Should Lilith fear? Unfaltering, these eyes + Have watched when rushing storm-clouds heaped the skies, + And the black whirlwind, with loud, deafening roar, + Beat the torn waves; or whirled against the shore + The tumbling billows, with fierce lips that bit + The shrinking land. And the wreathed lightnings split + The cloud with thunder dread: or wildly burst + Upon the sea the water-spout. Shall first + She fear thy flame, who feared not these?" "Fit mate + Art thou for Eblis," answered he. "His fate + Share, great-souled one. Thou wouldst not meanly shrink, + Though his strong heart did fail. O Lilith, think! + The crown of clustered worlds thou mayest find, + If thou with him who loveth thee wilt bind + Thy life." "Nay, far happier seems to me + Than eagle caged, the wild lark soaring free," + She said. And through her rose-pleached alleys strayed + They to the sea. And tender music made + That guileful voice; yet slow his wooing sped + Those summer days. But when were dead + And brown the crisping leaves, "Oh, love," he said, + "Of all the centuries, thou rarest bloom, + Thy shut heart open wide. Its sweet perfume, + Though I should die, fain would I parting drink. + Sleeps yet thy love? From me no longer shrink, + My Lilith. Oh, lift up thy tender eyes; + In their blue depths doth happy morning rise; + 'Tis night if they be closed." + She softly sighed; + And ancient strife recalling, thus replied: + "When dwelt a prince discrowned, well satisfied? + And fallen, loving, still art thou a prince, + And otherwhiles might sorrow bring me, since + It might hap thou wouldst much desire her realm, + Were Lilith thine; for princes seize the helm + When Love lies moored, and bid the shallop seek + Across the waves new lands. But Love is weak, + And so, alas, the craft upon the sands + Is dashed, while one, on-looking, wrings her hands. + Such days I have outlived. Like Adam, thou + Perchance will seek to bind the loosed. Then how + (If one hath drunken wine of liberty) + Shall she, athirst, rejoice; no longer free, + Be glad?" + "My love," he said, "large-hearted lives, + Full dowers thee, and royal bounty gives, + Nor knoweth law, save Lilith's wish alone." + "Why, then," she answered, "on the polished stone + That fronts yon hill, write, Eblis, in full day, + That other time we read it clear, and say, + 'Hereon are graven all those early vows + We whispered low aneath the summer boughs,' + Write every word. That so the stone shall be + Ever a witness mute twixt thee and me. + Then shall I know thou seekest in me no thrall + For after-days, if thou make compact. All + Thou hast said, write now." + Then on the stone, + As she had said, graved Eblis, and thereon + Did set his seal. So wedded they: and hand + In hand the wide world roamed. Or in her land + Abode. And oft, of hours, ere yet on earth + He walked, she questioned. Or he loosed with mirth + Her yellow hair, down-streaming o'er his arm; + And 'gainst his cheek her breath came sweet and warm; + As through his dusky locks caressing played + Her fingers slim; and shadows, half afraid, + She saw in his wild eyes. + Or paths remote + They trod, watching the white clouds rise and float + Athwart the sky. Or by the listless main, + Or 'neath the lotus bough, slow paced the twain. + Or dragon-trees spread their cool leafy screen. + And faint crept odors through the mangroves green, + Where paused the pair upon the sandy shore. + Love-tranced, unheeded, swiftly passed them o'er + Glad summer days: till one hour softly laid + At Lilith's feet a fair, lone babe, that strayed + From distant Dreamland far. So might one deem + That looked upon its face. Or, it might seem + From other climes, a rose-leaf blown apart, + Down-fluttered there, to gladden Lilith's heart. + + + + + BOOK IV. + + + To that fair Elf-child other summers came; + But Lilith walked, heart-hungered, filled with shame, + Naught comforted. And in that shadow-land + She sorrowing bore, in after-time, a band + Of elfin babes, that waked dim echoes long + Forgotten there, and ghastly bursts of song. + Then Lilith saddened more, for that she knew + The curse was fallen now. And cried she through + Fast-falling tears, "Oh, me most desolate, + That shall not know in any time the fate + Of happier mothers! Nay, nor cool touch + Of baby hands. Oh, longed-for, loved so much! + Alas, my babes, ere yet hour-old ye fly, + Out-spreading shining wings with jeering cry, + Afar from me. Most hapless I, from whom + The crown of motherhood, yet white with bloom, + Falls blighted! Close in these empty arms fain + Would I clasp my babes! My tender pain + But once could ye not solace? Nay, 'tis vain; + I shall not kiss their lips, nor hear again, + As gladder mothers may, low-rippling, sweet, + The laughter children bring about their feet. + Oh, soulless ones, can ye not wait awhile, + 'Till on your loveless lips I wake one smile?" + But merrily out-laughed the phantom crew; + On shining pinions white, swift seaward flew, + Or upward rose, slow-fading in the blue; + Or lured her trembling, green morasses through. + And 'mong the frothy waves they vanished fast; + Or shrieked with glee borne on the wintry blast, + And wilder raised their warlock song. + While fairer grew each day that elfin throng. + + To pluck the mangoes brown, fair Lilith sped + One morn. Quick throbbed her heart. On mossy bed + Lay all her babes. With face like morning, shone + One there, and wide her yellow hair out-blown + As 'twere in play. Red-flushed her cheeks, and deep + About her lips the baby smiles. Asleep + Was one, white-gleaming, pure as pearl unseen + In sunless caves, close-shut. And one did lean + Against his fellow, lithe, sun-flushed and brown, + With rings of jetty hair that low adown + His bosom streamed. And one there was, whose dream + O'erflowed with laughter. And one did seem + Half-waking. One, with dimpled arms in sleep + Thrust elbow-deep in moss, that sure did weep + Ere yet he slept, and on his cheek scarce dried + The wilful tears. + Then low, pale Lilith cried + As near she drew, down-bending tender eyes: + "And are ye here, my babes; and will ye rise + If I but break your sleep?" His naked feet + One faintly moved as low she leant; and warm + His slumbrous breath stirred 'gainst her circling arm, + And slow aneath his closed lids slipped a waft + Of wind, that loosed a trickling tear. Its craft + The mother-heart forgot thereat. "At last, + Close to my breast, my babes," she cried, and fast + Laughing, outstretched her eager hands and strong. + Then lay with empty arms. + The elfin throng + Breasted the pulsing air with mocking song. + "Alas," she said, "could ye not give one kiss-- + One tender clasp of hands! And must I miss + Your throbbing hearts from my cold, barren breast, + Ye soulless ones, that flout my lonely rest?" + + There, prostrate, long lay Lilith, and there, late + 'Mid dew-fall, Eblis found his stricken mate. + "O Eblis, say o'er me what curse hangs bare, + For now no more," she said, "this realm seems fair. + Its fruits grow bitter, all its light falls chill. + With thee, my prince, poor Lilith mates but ill-- + Earth-born, with angel linked. Alas, is left + No joy to me, of my sweet ones bereft. + Methinks soft baby lips might erewhile drain + From Lilith's famished heart its wildest pain. + Wherefore, my Eblis, it were wise to seek + Surcease of grief. That Lilith, is so weak + Who wedded thee; and that she sinned, knew not. + Yet, if we part, mayhap may follow naught + Of other ills." + "Sweet love," he laughed, "o'er-late + Thou art so timorous. At Eden's gate + Not so, what time the angel barred her way + My Lilith stood. Shelter within my arms. Oh, say, + Was not our young love sweet? Hath it grown cold? + With me thou sharest endless life; nor old, + Nor shrivelled, shalt thou be. And not one trace + Of earth's decay (sure doom of thy sad race) + Shall taint thy babes. For lo, I give + Thy soulless ones immortal youth. They live + Without a pang. And yet, methinks the cry + Of Earth adown the ages sounds, when die + Its babes; and mothers bend dumb lips above, + And fold still hands, that answer not their love. + Lilith, doth not indeed my love outweigh + Caresses missed from phantom babes? Astray + From Eden long, here in this fair domain + To bide; and through long cycles fearless reign + Methinks were joy. In summer sheen + Wide spreads thy land. The marge of islets green + The palm-trees skirt. Soft shine the dusk lagoons + And inland mountains. Mirk the jungle's glooms, + And fair thy fertile plains. Oh, sweet the glow + When we together watch the day, that low + Among the winds lies still. Shut lilies blow + While here we wait. Come, for they fain would show + Their golden hearts. Or, love, with me to float + Were it not sweet, through flowery bays remote, + Past coves and peaks? Or pierce yon ocean's verge, + And through wild tumbling waves our sails to urge?" + "Yea, sweet is love," she said, "and sweet to roam + By listless currents lulled; or 'mid the foam + Low dip our feathery oars," she sighed, "yet sore + Is still the mother-heart that hears no more + The lisping tongues. And sad, when baby smiles + Have left it desolate. And baby wiles + Shall cheer it never more." + "Yet," Eblis said, + "Lilith, no longer mourn. For I have read + Upon a scroll as samite glistening white, + All coming fate, close hid from human sight, + Great peoples yet shall dwell in these dusk lands. + Then shall thy children, shadowy bands + That fly thy fond caress, with them abide + In closest fellowship. And though they hide + Sometimes from human ken their better selves, + Still loved, remain these tricksy elves. + Though yet indeed some quips and pranks they play, + 'Tis but a jest, men know, when far away + The flickering marsh-fires swift they light + And children follow their false tapers bright + Among the spongy bogs. The ship-lad smiles, + When distant 'mid the waves the phantom isles + Rise green. 'Tis but a harmless jest that sets + On lonely plains, domes, mosques, and minarets, + And o'er the desert sands, mirage uplifts + When glimmering waves shine through deep rifts + Of crested palms. + "Still dearer they when wide + To undiscovered lands men boldly ride + Across new seas, and turn their venturous prows. + When tempests shriek, and wet about their brows + The salt spray dashes fierce, one, watching, cries, + 'Good mates, no storm I fear, for yonder rise + The Elf-babes 'mid the foam. Ye goblin crew, + That sail these unknown seas, we follow you + To harbor safe. Ho, ho! With beckoning hands, + Wind-driven, loud they cry--My mates! the lands, + The golden lands we seek, are ours!' + + "In Earth's brown bosom pent, the hardy wight + Long in deep caverns dwells; and hard doth smite + The rocky caves. Nor sees the golden spoil + Through weary days of wasted, lonely toil. + From his wild eyes, far-flying hides the prize, + Till desperate, angered, worn, aloud he cries: + 'Vain, vain! The caves my labor answer not, + Nor yellow threads, that gleam in any grot. + Hard, cruel, silent hills, my strength ye mock, + And seal your treasures close in flinty rock; + So, after toilsome years, sweet wife, I bring + To thee no sparkling love-gift. Nay, nor anything + To cheer our failing time.' + + "Then round him hears + He sturdy blows, and listening, almost fears + He dreams. But swift the echoes rise, and still + More loudly roll, and quick replies the hill. + Reverberant, through all the caverns round, + The uproar swells, and fills the world with sound. + Then lists he once again. 'With lusty shocks + Your hammers ring against the hard-ribbed rocks-- + Goblins!' he boldly shouts, 'smite! smite! ye bring + My treasure forth, dark-beating goblin wing + Among the gleaming caves, whose dusk veins hold + The gold. At last! At last, the ruddy gold!' + + "And lone, in stricken fields, the husbandman + Sits pale, with anxious eyes that hopeless scan + The burning sky. Hot lie the glimmering plain + And uplands parched. 'Behold, the bending grain, + Fair in the springtide, now is dead; and dry + The brooks. If yet the rainfall fail, we die + Of famine sore. No bleating lambs I hear in fold + Safe shut, nor lowing kine; nor on the wold + The whir of mounting bird: Nor thrives about me + Any living thing. So seemeth, end must be + Of striving. Since all the land is cursed, + What matter if by famine scorched, or thirst, + We die?' he saith. + "And thick the warlock swarm + Above his head, wide-spreading dark wings warm, + Fast flitted by. The waiting fields he stands + Among. And laughing, claps exultant hands. + 'Good speed ye, Sprites! that bring the welcome cloud + And pile the vapors thick,' he shouts aloud. + Oh! sweet shall bloom again the bending grain, + And clothe afresh the wide, the wasted plain. + The clouds sweep black. Ha, ha! Against my cheek + The big drops fall. Merry the goblins shriek. + Behold, they mount, they sink, they rise again. + Ho, friendly elves, that bring the longed-for rain!'" + + Thereat, he, smiling, ceased. And when soft crept + The listening stars across the sky, they slept + Untroubled, 'neath the mango-trees. + But when midway + The night was spent, Prince Eblis waking lay. + Soft Lilith's breathing 'mong the droopt leaves stirred. + And he, sore troubled, mused on every word + That Lilith spake ere yet they slept. In all + Foreseeing much of ill that might befall + Their love. "O, queenly soul! Of finer grain + Thou art than angels are. And more in brain + Than man, I hold thee. Sooth, yet taints thee still + One touch of womankind. And since so chill + She finds her babes, must I forego my vow? + For one flaw, Hope's clear crystal break? Oh, how + Ally her cause with mine! So doth she long + For human love--a baby hand is strong + To hurl my empire down. From her soft heart + Red, baby lips can drain revenge, and start + Unbidden tears. And pity wakes to life + When 'mong dead embers she sits lone, and strife + Is done. + "Then, at Regret's dull heels, lo, fast, + Retrieving follows. Happy days long past + She will recall. If so for love she yearn, + Back to her early home once more will turn, + Pardoning her wilful lord. And he again + Shall win the woman I so love, and fain + Would hold forever. Lilith, thou one balm + Of my lost soul in all this world! Shall calm + My sufferings, or love me, any one, save thee, + When thou in Adam's arms forgettest me? + My only love! Nay, then, 'twere surely wise + To shut these baby faces from her eyes, + New seeds of wrath to sow, her hate so feed + That all her rankling wounds afresh shall bleed. + And in her ears 'Good Adam!' will I cry, + Lest she forget Eden she lost thereby. + Yea, 'Adam!' I will laugh. Till her red lips with guile + O'erflow. And she shall curse him loud. With subtlest wile + Safe won, then shall she ever be mine own. + Soul-bound to me in hate, more terrible than death + In hate, that long outlasts Love's puny breath-- + O cunning craft, that with the self-same blow + Forever wins my love, and smites my foe! + + "Last night, when Lilith slept, lest I might mar + Her dreams, from our green couch I rose, and far + Passed silent. Know I not the spell that draws + My feet unwilling, Edenward. Its laws + I may not brave to rend my foe. Nor there + The Angel pass, unseen. The night so fair, + As prone among the glistening leaves I lay, + On Adam shone. Not sad, as on a day + Erstwhile he seemed. And I could almost swear + The sound of silvery laughter on the air + Fell soft. And a fleet footfall 'mong the flowers + Scattered the dew. Yet 'mid those silent bowers + Naught else I saw or heard save rippling flow + Of waters, and the moonshine white. Oh, low + Speak, Eblis, lest aloud the night may tell + Thy secret to the stars. Yet it were well + If lies the hidden cure for Lilith's woe + Close shut in Paradise. + "All would we know, + If we, close hid without those verdant walls, + Together watched. What fate soe'er befalls + I care not, if with me she bide." + Down bent + He o'er her hair, thick with the night-dew sprent. + Soft kissed it, crying, "Love, the morn shines bright. + Waken, my Lilith, now. Through lands of night + Our happy course afar doth ever wend; + Past smiling shores where mighty rivers bend, + Past cove and cape and isle, and winding bay + And still blue mists, that hang athwart the day." + Thereat she rose, and joyously they sped + By broad lagoons where musky odors shed + New blooms. About them coiled long wreaths of vine, + And slim lianas drooped, and marish lichens fine. + And fared they on o'er many a slanting beach + And mountain crest; past many an open reach + And forest wild--till over Paradise + They saw the stars, clear, tender, loving, rise. + Then 'neath the screen of those rose-girdled walls + They hid without, listing the waterfalls, + Or bird belated, twittering to its nest. + So still the spot, the very grass to rest + Seemed hushed. + The garden-close, a clinging rose o'ercrept. + Its lustrous stem without that drooping swept + Thick set with buds as tintless as the snows + On sunless hills, when wild the north wind blows. + + Lilith a-tiptoe stood; upreaching, caught + The swaying boughs. Her eyes with longing fraught + Close scanned her old deserted home. Then came + Upon her spirit sadness, as if blame + Unuttered breathed through those remembered glades + And touched the odors moist 'mong mirky shades. + With wistful gaze, she traced each bosky dell, + Each winding path. And sweet youth's memories fell + About her. + Then was she ware of Adam, slow + Pacing the pleasance-ways. With ruddy glow + Fresh shone his cheeks, and crisp his hair out-blown + By wanton winds. His lips were mirthful grown. + Once he made pause hard by the coppice green + That hid the watcher. Once the leafy screen + So near he passed, from the overhanging edge + He brushed a rose. The hindering hedge + Quick through, in sudden blessing slim white hand + Fain had she reached. "O Eden mine! Dear land," + She sighed. And springing warm the tender tide + Of teardrops gemmed the roses at her side. + + So greets the weary wanderer once more + His early home. The lintels worn, the door + Age-stained; the iris clumps, in sheltered nook; + The mill-wheel rotting o'er the shrunken brook; + The sunny orchard, sloping west; and far + And cold, above his mother's grave, a star-- + Then quick unbidden tears, the heart's warm rain, + O'erflow his soul, and leave it pure again. + So Lilith backward turned to holier days, + Watching through misty tears where trod those ways + Her feet in other times. + Sudden and sweet + Came down those paths a glimpse of flying feet; + A sound of girlish laughter smote the air. + In jealous rage, Lilith uprose to dare + The guarding Angel's wrath. But, silver clear, + The mocking laugh of Eblis caught her ear. + "Thou hast forgot," he said, "this peaceful land, + Living, thou canst not enter." + But her hand + Grasped once again the roses' shining strand, + And 'neath her guileful touch, like scarlet flame + The snowy flowers burned. So, first Earth's shame + Around them set the spiked thorns. + Long there + Pale Lilith looked, as coldly still and fair + As carven stone. Then, with a fierce despair, + A sense of utter loss, downbending there, + With fingers hot she tore the hedge apart + And laid thereto her face. With sorer smart + She gazed again. For now, the twain at rest + Were laid. Pure as a dream, Eve's sinless breast + A babe close pressed. One pink foot, small and warm, + Among the leaves was hid. One dimpled arm + Aneath her head. + Low Eblis sneered. "I wot + In young Eve's arms my Lilith is forgot. + Oh, soon," he said, "these earth-worms changeful turn-- + From the oped rose when red the shut buds burn." + But wild eyes on the babe she fixed. "Oh, blind," + She cried, "was I. Yea, if the wanton wind + Doth mock, I will not chide. Was it for this + I wandered far, and bartered Eden's bliss? + For this have lost the very bloom of life? + So Adam comfort finds, not knowing strife! + Look you, that fragile thing at Adam's side-- + I heed her not. But Lilith is denied + The treasure she so careless doth possess. + See how the babe, scarce waking, doth caress + The mother! Look! Oh, hear the mother croon + Above her child! Ah, Eblis, love, I swoon-- + I shall not know such joy. Alas, to me + No babe shall come! Accursed may she be, + Cursed Adam too. Thrice heavy on the head + Of this poor babe my wrong be visited." + So, trembling, she brake off. + "Fast fades the light, + Sweet love. Once more to our dark realm of night + Let us return," he said. + As on fared they + With merry jest, Eblis gan cheer the way. + "Nay, otherwhiles mirth pleased," she said. "Knowest thou + What name she bears, who dwells in Eden now? + When Lilith went, long tarried Adam lone?" + She said. Replied he, "All to me is known + Since that same hour you parted. What befell, + To thee as we wend onward I will tell. + + "Calm morn in Eden streaked the skies with red, + And flushed the waiting hills above the grassy bed + Where Adam, joyless, saw new rise the sun, + Unwinding golden webs night-vapors spun + Athwart low meads. Slow, droning murmurs sent + The waking bees, with bloom and fragrance blent. + Unheeded poured her music blithesome Day + The reedy brooks beside and shallows gray. + For lone to Adam seemed the place, and cold; + The landscape dumb, as one aneath the mould. + For Lilith's sake, no more was Eden fair. + Bloomless the days, the nights bowed down with care. + Oft pacing pathways dim, he saw the gleam + Of strange-faced flowers beside the purling stream, + Or toyed with circling leaves; or plucked the grass, + And watched through rifted trees the clouds o'erpass; + Wide roaming, heard the waters idly break + Far 'gainst the curving beach. + "And grieving, spake, + 'Oh, sweet with thee each hour--each wilding way, + And sweet the memory of each gathered spray. + Could you not wait, dear love? Or come once more? + Yea, 'till you come, vain doth great Nature pour + Her richest gifts.' He paused, and heard alone + Respondent fall, the wood-dove's plaintive moan, + And the spent winds among the scented glades. + Moss-couched beneath the glinting forest shades, + He gazed, when shadows o'er the hills crept light, + Quick vanishing, like phantom fingers white, + Until on mead, and mere, and sounding shore + Eden found voice, sad plaining, 'Never-more!' + Long time he pondered on blue peaks remote + When slow, as stranded ships that listless float, + Moved by the sunset clouds. Or the white rack + Swept o'er the garden walls. + "'Would I their track + Might take,' he said, 'Lilith, so long you stay. + Whom my soul follows sorrowing--alway.' + Thus ever mourned he, comfortless; that so + In after days the Master, in the glow + Of morning-tide, the mother of the race + Gave for his solacement. + "Oh, fair the face + Young Eve bent o'er his sleep. Ere down the glade + The startled fawn leaps swift, her glance dismayed + Questions the hunter, mute. Such eyes--so brown, + So soft, so winning, shy--that looked adown + When Adam waked. Like vagrant tendrils, tossed + Dark hair about her brows. And quaintly crossed + Her hands upon her breast. Less red the dart + That deepest cleaves the folded rose's heart, + Than her round cheeks. Not hers the regal air + Of Lilith lost, the white arms, lissom, bare, + The slender throat; the elbows dimpled deep, whereto + Might scarcely reach Eve's head. + "Yet soft, as through + Some pleasant dream, the summer's spicy air + Stirs odorous 'mong seaward gardens fair, + In southland hid; so, gently, Eve straightway + To Adam's life unbidden came, to stay + Forever there. Sure entrance then made she + Into that heart untenanted by thee. + "So, to some olden house, from whose shut doors + One went erewhile, another comes. Its floors + All empty sees. The lowly threshold worn, + The moss-grown roof, the casements left forlorn. + Amid the shadows round about him stands, + Missing the footsteps passed to other lands, + And whispers tenderly, 'Since here no more + The owner bides, what harm if on the floor + I pass? Good chance it were the clambering vine + About the porch with fingers deft to twine-- + To draw the curtains, ope the door. For who + May know how soon these paths untended, through, + He comes again, with weary, way-worn feet, + Who made aforetime, other days so sweet. + Wherefore, I enter now. For whose dear sake + These vacant rooms, white, fragrant, clean, I make. + And when, world-wearied, he returns, we twain + Perchance together bide. Nor part again.' + So Eve found refuge. Tender love, the spell + Whereby she ruled. Peaceful the pair did dwell. + Fast fled the happy years, till softly laid + In her glad arms the babe--a winsome maid." + He ended there. Between them silence deep + Fell, as they journeyed. And the furthest steep + They crossed, that o'er their shadow-world rose high. + Then saw they level plains, their home, anigh. + And now, seeking her pleasance once again, + They came to their own land. But all in vain + His care. Silent she was, and oft did grieve, + Till Eblis wrathful cried: "Because this Eve + Adam holds dear, art mourning? Still dost yearn + To mate his sordid soul? Or wouldst thou turn + From summer land to Eden walls? + "The man + Belike, ne'er loved thee. So is it young Eve can + His pulses sway. Is she not passing fair? + Her fancies wild, it is her daily care + To bend beneath his ever fickle will. + Red-lipped and soft, she deftly rules him still, + Though he wist not. Yet sweeter Lilith's frown + Than archest smile she wears. Great Soul! The crown + Thou bearest of fadeless life. For fleeting dreams + In Paradise, beside the winding streams, + Wilt thou resign such boon? Thou art, in sooth, + Of mold too firm for Adam's love. In truth + A prince--though fallen--consorts best with thee + Say which were wise, with Eden's lord to be, + Or, shining high, the purer soul, the star + That fadeless burns, and Eblis lights afar? + Were it not grand through endless spaces hurled + With me to drive, above a shrinking world + Our chariot, wide? + "For I foresee when dawn + Dark days upon our foes, and hope is gone. + Wherefore, my Lilith, now, as seems thee good, + Make choice." Thereat she, turning where she stood, + With kisses hung about his neck, and smiled, + Crying, "Thine, Eblis, thine!" So were they reconciled. + + + + + BOOK V. + + + And Lilith oft to Paradise returned, + For fierce within her, bitter hatred burned, + And better, dearer, seemed revenge than aught + She else desired. The coppice oft she sought, + Much hoping direful evil might be wrought + Upon the love that bloomed in Eden. + Wide + Oft strayed fair Eve; the little maid, beside, + Plucking the lotus; or by sedgy moats, + From ribbed papyrus broad, frail fairy boats + Deft fashioning. Or Adam, watching, smiled, + With flowery wreaths engarlanding the child. + And laughed the pair, intent on pleasant toil, + When blithe the child upheaped her fruity spoil-- + Great globes of red and gold. Or roguish face + O'er feathery broods, or in the further space + To count the small blue eggs, she sportive bent; + And far her restless feet swift glancing went. + It chanced one day she watched the careless flight + Of vagrant butterflies, that circled light + Uncertain, high, above a copse rose-wreathed; + Then soft down-dropping, gaudy wings they sheathed + Beside a darkling pool. The copse anear + With yellow buds was strewn. And softly here + She crept, deeming her little half-shut hand + Might snare the fairest of that gleaming band. + Yet ere she touched it, wide its wings outspread + In flight. + + And still she, swift pursuing, sped + Among the groves, till wearied, slept the maid + Deep in the mid-day shadows, lowly laid. + + Without, stooped Lilith. And with fingers swift, + Among the leaves she oped a small green rift, + That she might see the child. The hedge was wet + With starry blooms. Whereto her hand she set + When she awaked, seeing each dainty frond + Of fragrant ferns, dusk mirrored in the pond. + The child came near the copse, much wondering: + From glossy stems the smooth leaves sundering. + And stooping o'er the rift, she saw there, low + Against the hedge, a face like drifted snow, + And soft eyes, blue as violets show + Above the brooks; and hair that downward rolled + Upon the ground in glittering strands of gold. + Mute stood the maid, naught fearing, but amazed. + Then nearer drew, and lingering, she gazed + In those blue orbs. And smiling as she knelt, + The stranger quickly loosed her shining belt + Of gems. Flawless each stone whose pallid gleam + Lit silent nooks, or slept by far-off stream + Unheeded--pale pearls with shimmering light, + From distant oceans plucked, blue sapphires bright, + And diamonds rosy-cold, and burning red + The rubies fine, and yellow topaz shed + Its sultry glow, jasper, dull onyx white, + Sardonyx, rare chalcedon, streaked with light. + Against her white breast that bright zone she laid, + Then stretched it, flashing forth, toward the maid, + And clasped it round her throat. + A luring strain + She sung, sweet as the pause of summer rain. + So soft, so pure her voice, the child it drew + Still nearer that green rift; and low there-through + She laughing stroked the down-bent golden head + With her soft baby hands. And parting, spread + The silken hair about her little face, + And kissed the temptress through the green-leaved space. + Whereat fell Lilith snatched the babe and fled, + Crying, as swift from Eden's bounds she sped, + And like a fallen star shone on her breast + The child, "At last! at last! thy peaceful rest + Ere long will cease. O helpless mourn, frail Eve, + Uncomforted. O hapless mother, grieve, + Since Lilith far from thee thy babe doth bear! + She leaves thy loving arms, thy tender care. + Nor canst thou follow anywhere my flight, + When far we go athwart the falling night. + Ah, little babe, close-meshed in yellow hair + Thou liest pale! Fear not, thou art so fair, + Much comfort lives in thee." + So ended she, + And onward, hostile lands among, passed fleet + Blue solitudes afar, till paused her feet, + Where highest 'mong hoar climbing peaks, uprose + A mountain crest. + It was the third day's close. + In those untrodden ways there was no sound, + No sight of living thing, the barren heights around. + No hum of insect life, no whirring wing of bird. + Bare rocks alone, all fissured, blotched and blurred + As with red stain of battle-fields unseen. + Far, far below, still vales were shining green. + And leaping downward swift, a mountain stream + Crept soft to sleep, where meadow grasses dream. + Wan, wayworn, there, the babe upon her knee, + Lilith sat down. "O Eve," she said, "on me + The child smiles sweet! Fondle her silken hair + If now thou canst, or clasp her small hands fair. + Thou hast my Paradise. Lo, thine I bear + Afar from thee. See, then! Its transient woe + Thy babe e'en now forgets; and sweet and low + It babbles on my knee. In sooth, not long + Endure her griefs, and through my crooning song + She kisses me, recalling not the place + Whence she has come. Nay, nor her mother's face." + Long time stayed Lilith in that land. More calm + Each day she grew, for soft, like healing balm, + The child's pure love fell on her sin-sick soul. + Now oft among the crags, fleet-footed, stole + The maid, or lightly crossed the fertile plain. + And blithesome sang among the growing grain + That brake in billowy waves about her feet. + But when the wheat full ripened was, and sweet, + She plucked and ate. Thereat a shadowy pain, + A sense of sorrow, stirred that childish brain, + She wist not why. For it did surely seem + Before her waking thought, with pallid gleam + Of other days, dim pictures passed; of wood + And stream, beyond these mountain rims. And stood, + It seemed, midway a garden wide, a tree that bright + Like silver gleamed, and broad boughs light + Uplifted. Like ripened wheat the fruit thereon, + When low the westering sun upon it shone. + Then slow the maid did turn, and silent stand + At Lilith's side. And o'er that mountain land, + Down-looking, mused. Or lifted pensive eyes, + And gaze that questioned if in any wise + She might perceive the land she longing sought; + But of its stream, or garden, saw she naught. + Thereat Lilith with white lips drew more near, + And clasped in her lithe arms the child so dear. + And once again fled swift, a shadowy shape, + Across green fields. And heard, through silence, break + A voice she could not hush, that loudly wailed, + "My babe! Give me my babe!" + And Lilith paled, + And listening, heard, borne ever on the wind, + The tread of feet fast following behind. + Then westward turned, where once among new ways + With Eblis she had trod in other days, + When far they wandered. Thitherward she bent + Her timid steps, the babe upon her breast, + Until with travel worn her noontide rest + She took. And now a land of alien blooms + About them lay, outwafting strange perfumes. + And quaint defiles, that sloped behind a bay; + And level fields; and curly vines that lay + Thick clustered o'er with unripe fruit; and bent + Above them fragrant limes and spicy scent + Of citron and of myrtle all the place + Made sweet, and 'mid the trees, an open space + They saw. + Not far away a broad lagoon + Burned like a topaz 'neath a crescent moon, + For day was parting. Even-tide apace + Drew on, and chill the night dews filled the place. + Upon the waters dusky shadows clung, + And ashen-gray the broad leaves drooping hung; + Low 'mong the marish buds lay one that made + Against the sudden dusk a duskier shade-- + Despairing arms upflinging to the sky, + Smiting the silence with unheeded cry-- + "O mother, childless! Wife--of all bereft! + Alas, my babe, not even thou art left + To comfort me, in these last hopeless days, + Shut out from Paradise. Through unknown ways + I sought thee sorrowing. Oh, once again, + My Adam, come! Is not this gnawing pain + Of punishment enow, that thou unkind + Art grown? Ah, never more shall I thee find? + Alas, I ever was but weak. Alone + I cannot live. Come but again, mine own. + No longer leave me mourning, desolate. + In tears I call thee. Oh, in tears I wait + Thy sweet, forgiving kiss!" + Ended she so + Her plaint. And 'mong the glistening leaves hid low, + Lilith yet fiercer clasped the child + When that lorn mother, tear-stained, weeping, wild, + Poured forth her woe. + As one that wakes to life + From peaceful dreams, leaps quick amid the strife + Of morning hours, so now the maid to pass + From Lilith's arms strove hard. And loosed her clasp, + And turned her shadowed face with plaintive moan + And fond beseeching eyes, where lay her mother lone. + But Lilith hardening, seized the child again, + And from her ears shut out the mother's pain + With wilful hands. + So passed she quick away. + Across the dusky path, low fallen, lay + Pale Eve, till clear she saw the dawn's pure ray, + And as she looked, the voice of one she heard + Anigh. Her heart to sudden joy was stirred. + "Rise up, mine own," he said, "no more apart + We walk." Then she arose, and cried, "Dear heart, + Close hold me. So! Methinks I dreamed we were + Parted long time." + So went, the exiled pair + From home thrust out, together--everywhere. + And oft they journeyed on with sufferings spent + To distant lands. And oft with labor bent + Recalled the olden home, with brimming eyes, + Hemmed in by mountains blue--lost Paradise. + + Meanwhile, to her own realm Lilith long since + Was come, glad greeting Eblis. "O my prince, + I have most bravely done. Our foes full sore + Are smitten now. My guerdon o'er and o'er + Thou wilt bestow, I ween, in kisses warm + As my own southland's breath. For I great harm + Have wrought that hated pair. With feeble moan + Lies Eve in a far land, thrust out. Alone, + Deserted. And whence angered Adam flies + I know not. Nay, nor what new world his eyes + Behold. Nor even if he live. + "But see! + Sleeps on my breast the babe--Eve's babe. And she + Shall know no more its tender, sweet caress, + Soft medicining woe. The wilderness + Uncheered by love, is hers." + And by the sea, + Peaceful abode, long time content, the three, + Save that the child unmurmuring drooped. + Then oft above her Lilith, singing, stooped, + Striving to wake the baby smiles again + About her wee, warm mouth. Vain wiles! And vain + Her loving skill. All still she lay, and pale. + As one at sea pines for a lonely vale + Besprent with cuckoo flowers; the faint wild breath + Of cradled buds, among the cloven elms, and saith, + 'I shall not see that place beyond the seas, + Nor any more pluck red anemones + In windless nooks.' + So seemed the child, and frail + As one that weeps above dead joys. Then pale + Grew Lilith as those wasting lips she pressed + And kissed the filmy eyes, and kissing, blessed + The child. + But Eblis touched the hand so worn, + The faded, wasted face. "Happy, thou mother lorn, + Unseeing her," he said. "This fragile thing + To-day lies on thy breast. To-morrow's wing + Hath brushed it from thy sight." Low Lilith sighed: + "My Eblis, is this death?" And louder cried, + "But thou art wise, and sure some hidden way + From this sore hap canst find. O Eblis, say, + Hast thou no spell whereby the child may live? + O love, my realm thy recompense I give, + If she be healed." + "Nay; not Archangel's craft + Stays fleeting life, or turns Death's nimble shaft," + He said. "Yet if," she mused, "I laid again + The child in young Eve's arms, like summer rain, + The mother's love may yet restore again + This shriveled life. And yet, must I resign + The babe? Alas, my little one! Nay, mine + No more!" Weeping she ceased. + But after, bore + The child far northward; the exiled pair o'er + Many lands long seeking. Till from a crest + Of barren hills Lilith looked down. At rest, + The twain she saw, for it was eventide. + And low they spoke of hidden snares beside + Their unknown path, since unaware fared they + Into this hostile spot. The dim wolds lay + All bare beneath chill stars. And far away + Were belts of pine, and dingy ocean shore, + Like wrinkled lip. Cold was the land, and hoar + With wintry rime. Near by, its leafless boughs + A thorn bush bent, with withered berries red. + At sight thereof Adam, rejoicing, said, + "My Eve, bide here. From yonder friendly tree + The ripe fruit I will pluck and bring to thee." + "Oh, leave me not! This solitude I fear; + The land about is chill," she said, "and drear + It seems to me." But Adam answered, "Nay, + Sore famished art thou, and not far away + It is--nor long I stay." + So parted he. + Not long alone was Eve. Upstarted she + Dismayed. A woman, most exceeding fair, + Beside her stood, with coils of yellow hair, + And blue eyes, calm as sleep among the hills' + Dim lakes. Eve, frighted, shrank. As mountain rills, + Sweet fell the stranger's words. "My sister, one + Is here that glad salutes thee. And since done + Is now my quest, and here my journey ends, + I bring a goodly gift. For elsewhere wends + My pathway, Eve. + "Beside a coppice green, + Brighter than gold, purer than silver sheen, + In a fair garden, once a jewel shone. + With it, compared in all the world, no stone. + And low the Master set it shining clear + Against the hedge, saying, 'When she draws near + She will perceive on whom I do bestow + This moteless gem, that fellow doth not know.' + "Now I without the copse that day was hid. + Soft shone the jewel, as the moon amid + The blue. And in the garden I saw thee, + Where in the midst stood a fair wheaten tree + As emerald green. Its ears, as rubies red, + Fragrant as breath of musk, its odors spread. + And white its shining grains as rifted snow. + I looked again. And in thy fair hand, lo, + Full ripe bright gleamed the yellow wheaten grain. + Thou saidst, 'Though I did eat, I live. No pain + Hath marred this pleasant feast.' + "Then I the more + Desired thy gem. 'All things most goodly pour + On Eve their gifts. But I am famished lone,' + I said. And still against the hedge the stone + Rayed like a frozen tear the pure Night shed-- + The which with trembling hand I seized, and fled + Afar. + "But now upon my soul weighs sore + A dream. A voice called loud, 'Straightway restore + To Eve that which is hers; lest I, that bright + Set it against the hedge, will quench its light. + Yea, I will crumble it and quickly smite + It into dust e'en from thy hand.' Mine eyes + I careless closed. But yesternight 'Arise!' + The stern voice cried. 'Stay not at all. For lo, + I wait not. Lest I scourge thee sorely, go!' + Ah, Eve, though long upon my heart I wore + This jewel rare, behold, I now restore + Thine own!" + Then Eve cried loud, "Ere my heart break, + Give me my babe! Where is she, for whose sake + I sorrowed all these years--the little maid?" + She said, through tender sobs. + And Lilith laid + Apart upon her breast her garment, dyed + In blended hues. And stooping at Eve's side, + Gave back the child. + As one that ending quest + Most perilous, safe harbor sees--at rest + Among green hills--and enters glad therein, + So Lilith was. + So passed she once again + Into her land. + But Eve, like rain + Long pent, upon the child poured swiftly down + Sweet kisses. And again, twixt laugh and frown + Divided, smoothed the baby face, and through + Her fingers soft the silken hair she drew, + And kissed again. + And with a vague surprise + Recalled the stranger's smile, the mournful eyes, + Much marveling whence she fared. And said, "As pale + She seemed as bramble-blooms in Eden's vale." + + When homeward Adam came, the child she set + Upon his knee, saying, "Erewhile I met + An angel. So to me she seemed, as there + She stood. So tall, so yellow-haired, so fair; + And lo, she brought again the babe." + Therewith + She ended low. "Doubtless an angel, love, sith + So you deem her," he replied. And mused on all + Eve told. + And watching, saw a shadow fall + Upon the child. And later, did recall + Those words, sad pondering "so fair, so tall." + But nothing uttered. + + In that land long time + They lingered. And the child slow faded, till + One day Eve frighted cried, "See, Adam, still + She lies! Ah, little one, unseal those eyes! + Rouse but awhile, ere waning daylight flies!" + For she discerned not yet its doom, nor knew + The hour was near. + But Adam, parting, drew + Beneath the thorn, lest he might see the child. + And all the lone hours through Eve, babbling, smiled + Adown. And blew her warm breath o'er the cheeks + So wan. "The night grows cold," she said. "Sleep creeps + Dull on my babe. The night grows cold and chill," + She said. + Nor dreamed aneath those lids closed still, + The death film hung. + A wind uprose, and swept + Among the dry leaves heaped, where lowly slept + The child. Cold grew the night and colder, till + Against the east the dawn glowed daffodil, + Above dun wolds white with new-fallen snow. + So rose the day and widened into morning glow + With rosy tints o'erstreaked, and faintly blurred + With flecks of cloud. + Still lay the child, nor stirred. + Dumb Eve looked down, nor knew Death's pallid masque, + And strove to wake the maid. In vain. Her task + Was done. And as she gazed, a gentle grasp + Soft loosed the dead from that cold mother's clasp, + And Lilith laid the babe in its chill bed-- + Straightened the limbs, and kissed the little head. + And o'er the sleeper, kneeling, she did lean. + Forth from her breast she drew, close folded, green, + A sheath of leaves, bright shining, lustrous--wet + With tears--that in those waxen hands she set. + Then those shut leaves oped slow. And low and frail + Bloomed 'mid the tintless snows a snow-drop pale. + Soft Lilith said, "For this pale sleeper's sake, + O Eve, one kiss bestow. E'en thou canst take + Pity on me. For thee new, happy days await, + But I--I am forever desolate. + For thee fresh love will bloom above this mould; + For thee, in coming years, pure lips unfold; + But I--no more, no more, shall feel the warm + Breath 'gainst my breast. Nay, nor the baby arm + Soft clasping me. Nor see the feet that pass + Like falling music, through the waving grass. + Therefore, one pardoning kiss give e'er I go + To my own land, beyond this realm of snow." + And Eve, uprising, took the hand she gave, + And weeping, kissed; and parted by that grave. + + Stood Adam, after-time, by that small mound. + Low at their feet a sheaf of leaves Eve found, + Wherein white flowers shone. "Oh, like," she said, + "To this was one abloom within the bed + Where lies the child. And fair, O, passing fair, + She was, and tall, with yellow gleaming hair, + And cheeks soft flushed as fresh pomegranate bells; + And dewy eyes, like violets in the dells, + Who came. So, silent passed that stranger fair + Who loved our babe. And e'er I well was ware, + She vanished." + Otherwhiles, "Of alien race + She was," Eve said. "A princess, with a face + Surpassing fair, who trod the pathway bright + Among the mists, beyond the rim of night + To her own land." + And oft in after-time, + When Cain had lain in her young arms, and chime + Of voices round her came, and clasp of hands, + And thick with baby faces bloomed the lands, + Eve silent sat, remembering that one child + Among the snowdrops, in a Northern wild. + And Lilith dwelt again in her own land; + With Eblis still strayed far. And hand in hand + They talked; the while her phantom brood in glee + Laughed overhead. Then looking on the sea, + Low voiced, she sang. So sweet the idle song, + She said, "From Paradise, forgotten long, + It comes. An elfin echo that doth rise + Upward from summer seas to bending skies. + In coming days, from any earthly shore + It shall not fail. And sweet forever more + Shall make my memory. That witching strain + Pale Lilith's love shall lightly breathe again. + And Lilith's bitter loss and olden pain + O'er every cradle wake that sweet refrain. + My memory still shall bloom. It cannot die + While rings Earth's cradle-song--sweet lullaby." + + Slow passed dim cycles by, and in the earth + Strange peoples swarmed; new nations sprang to birth. + Then first 'mong tented tribes men shuddering spake + Dread tales of one that moved, an unseen shape, + 'Mong chilling mists and snow. A spirit swift, + That dwelt in lands beyond day's purple rift. + Phantom of presage ill to babes unborn, + Whose fast-sealed eyes ope not to earthly morn. + "We heard," they cried, "the Elf-babes shrilly scream, + And loud the Siren's song, when lightnings gleam." + Then they that by low beds all night did wake, + Prayed for the day, and feared to see it break. + + When o'er the icy fjords cold rise white peaks, + And fierce wild storms blot out the frozen creeks, + The Finnish mother to her breast more near + Draws her dear babe--clasps it in her wild fear + Still closer to her heart. And o'er and o'er + Through her weird song fall echoes from that lore + That lived when Time was young, e'er yet the rime + Of years lay on his brow. In that far prime + Nature and man, couched 'neath God's earliest sky, + Heard clear-voiced spheres chant Earth's first lullaby. + Now, in the blast loud sings the Finn, and long, + Nor knows that faint through her wild cradle-song + Yet sweetly thrills the vanished Elf-babes' cry, + Nor dreams, as low she croons her lullaby, + Still breathes through that sweet, lingering refrain + Lilith the childless--and to life again, + To love, she wakes. + The soft strain clearer rings + As through the gathering storm that mother sings: + + Pile the strong fagot, + Pale Lilith comes! + Wild through the murky air goblin voices shout. + Hark! Hearest thou not their lusty rout? + Lilith comes! + Listen, my babe! + + See how the dusk pines + Tremble and crouch; + Over wide wastes borne, white are the snow-wreaths blown, + And loud the drear icy fjords shudder and moan; + Lilith comes! + Listen, my babe! + + Ah! Hear the wild din, + Fierce o'er the linn, + The sea-gull, affrighted, soars seaward away, + And dark on the shores falls the wind-driven spray; + Lilith comes! + Listen, my babe! + + The shuddering ice + Shivers. It cracks! + Like a wild beast in pain, it cries to the wrack + Of the storm-cloud overhead. The sea answers back-- + Dread Lilith comes! + Listen, my babe! + + Near draws the wraith fair, + Dull gleams her hair. + Ah, strong one, so cruel--fierce breath of the North-- + The torches of heaven are lighting thee forth! + Fell Lilith comes! + Listen, my babe! + + Cold spirit of Snow, + Ah, I fear thee! + The sports of my hunter, the white fox, the bear, + The spoils of our rivers are thine. Ah, then spare, + Dread Lilith, spare + The babe at my breast! + + Mercy, weird Lilith! + Even sleeping, + My babe lies so chill. See, the reindeer I give! + Ah, lift thy dark wings, that my darling may live! + Pale Lilith comes! + Listen, my babe! + + Once, in the Northland, + Pale crocus grew + By half-wakened stream. It lay shriveled and low + Ere the spring-time had come, in soft shroud of snow. + Sad Lilith comes! + Listen, my babe! + + Foul Vampire, drain not + From my loved one + The life-current red. O Demon, art breaking + My heart while I plead? Ah, babe! Art thou waking? + Lilith, I live! + Closer my babe! + + Far o'er the dun wold, + Baby, behold + 'Mid the mist and the snow, fast, fast, and more fast-- + In the teeth of the blast--flies Lilith at last. + Pale Lilith flies! + Nearer, my babe! + + By Ganges still the Indian mother weaves + Above her babe her mat of plantain leaves, + And laughing, plaits. Or pausing, sweet and low + Her voice blends with the river's drowsy flow; + The while she fitful sings that old, old strain, + Forgetting that the love, the deathless pain + Of wandering Lilith lives and throbs again + When falls the tricksy Elf-babes' mocking cry + Faintly across her crooning lullaby-- + + Ah, happy babe, that here may sleep + Where the blue river winds along, + And sweet the trysting bulbuls keep + The night o'er-brimmed with pulsing song. + + Not so, mine own, as legends tell, + In lands remote, beyond the day, + The soulless babes of Lilith dwell, + Or vanish 'mong the cold mists gray. + + Or oft in elfin glee they ride + O'er burning deserts blown adrift, + Or singing idly, idly glide + Afar beyond Night's purple rift. + + But thou, my babe, for thee shall grow + The lilies, nodding by the stream; + For thee, the poppy's sleepy glow; + For thee, the jonquil's pallid gleam. + + My baby, sleep! Against the sky + The pippul lifts its trembling crest. + O baby, hush each wailing cry, + Close to the holy river's breast. + + Not here shall come that pale wraith fair, + Who, wandering once in Northern lands, + Bore o'er long reaches sere and bare + The death-flower white, for baby hands. + + Fear not, mine own, the Elf-babes shrill, + Nor Lilith tall, with brow of snow. + They may not haunt thy slumbers still + Where Ganges' sacred waters flow. + + Where coral reefs gnaw with white cruel teeth + The yellow surf, and the torn billows seethe-- + When shines the Southern Cross o'er placid isles, + The Afric mother sits, and singing, smiles, + Unheeding that a dead world's hidden pain + Beats wildly rhythmic through her pure refrain, + And lingers softly still an echoed sigh + Low in Earth's cradle-song--sweet lullaby. + A warning song of doom--a song of woe, + Of terror wild, she sings, down bending low, + The while bright gleams the Starry Cross above + Yet tells to her no tale of tender love + Of Him who lifteth after-time a cross + That healeth all the wide world's sin and loss. + + Ah, linger no longer 'mong blooms of the mangoes, + Nor pluck the bright shells by the low sighing sea, + Swift, swift, through the groves of the palms and acacias + Comes Lilith, the childless one, seeking for thee. + She will bind thee so fast in her yellow-gold hair-- + Ah, hasten, my children, of Lilith beware! + + Cold, cold are her cheeks as the spray of the wild sea, + Red, red are her lips as the pomegranate's bloom; + Cold, cold are the kisses the phantom will give thee, + Ah, cruel her kisses, that smell of the tomb. + Hist, hist! 'tis the sorceress with yellow-gold hair-- + Oh! lullaby, baby--of Lilith beware. + + She flies to the jungle, with false tales beguiling, + Ah, hear'st thou her elfin babes scream overhead! + Close, close in her strong arms she bears my babe, smiling; + She hath sucked the soft bloom from the lips of my dead. + Now far speeds the vampire, with yellow-gold hair-- + Oh! lullaby, baby--of Lilith beware! + + Art frighted, my baby? Nay, then, thy mother + Low singing enfolds thee all safe from the snare; + Afar flit the Elf-babes 'mid gray, misty shadows, + Afar flees the temptress with yellow-gold hair. + Ah, heed not her songs in the still slumbrous air-- + Oh! lullaby, baby--of Lilith beware! + + When hawthorn-trees sift thick their rifted snow, + The English mother o'er her babe sings low; + Where red the cross burns on the ivied fane, + Unwitting, pagan Lilith lives again-- + And softer sings, nor feels the wailing pain + Still faintly surging through that low refrain; + Nor dreams she hears Love's early cradle cry + Slow echoing through Earth's song--sweet lullaby-- + And in the shadow of that cross, her strain + Breathes sweetly; love, and hope, and ended pain. + Softlier while that small arm closely clings + About her heart, that mother peaceful sings: + + O babe, my babe, the light doth fade! + My baby, sleep, while I do keep + Close watch, where thou art lowly laid. + Sweet dreams shall steep thy slumber deep. + Ah, little feet, be still at last-- + Rest all the night, for day is past; + One watches thee from yon blue sky, + One watching here sings lullaby, + Lullaby; + Sings lullaby. + + Here on his bed the sunny head + Lies still; and soft the brown eyes close; + Sweet steals the breath, 'twixt lips as red, + As dewy fresh, as new-born rose. + O little lips, be hushed at last; + Fear naught, sweetheart, though day be past. + One looks adown from yon far sky, + One close beside, sings lullaby, + Lullaby; + Sings lullaby. + + + + +[Illustration] + +_"Ideal American magazines!"_ + +=It is a fact= acknowledged by the English press that American +magazines, by enterprise, able editorship, and liberal expenditure for +the finest of current art and literature, have won a rank far in advance +of European magazines. + +=It is also a fact= that for young people + +WIDE AWAKE + +_Stands foremost_ } _In pleasure giving!_ + } _In practical helping!_ + +Each year's numbers contain a _thousand quarto pages_, covering the +widest range of literature of interest and value to young people, from +such authors as John G. 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(Former title, the Teachers' Helper.) + What She Said, and What she Meant. + + + 12_mo_, _cloth_, $1.00 _Each._ + + Next Things. + Some Young Heroines. + Mrs. Harry Harper's Awakening. + Five Friends. + + 12_mo_, _cloth_, 75 cts. _Each._ + + Bernie's White Chicken. + Docia's Journal. + Getting Ahead. + Helen Lester. + Jessie Wells. + Six Little Girls. + That Boy Bob. + Two Boys. + Mary Burton Abroad. + + Pansy's Picture Book. 4to, board, $1.50; cloth, $2.00. + The Little Pansy Series. 10 volumes. Boards, $3.00; cloth, $4.00. + +Nora Perry. + Bessie's Trials at Boarding-school. 12mo, $1.25. + +Austin Phelps. + The Still Hour. 16mo, cloth, $.60; gilt, $1.00. + Work of the Holy Spirit. 16mo, cloth, $1.25. + +Edward A. Rand. + Roy's Dory. 12mo, cloth, illust., $1.25. + Pushing Ahead. 12mo, cloth, illust., $1.25. + After the Freshet. 12mo, cloth, $1.25. + All Aboard for Sunrise Lands. Illust., boards, $1.75; cloth, $2.25. + Tent in the Notch. 16mo, cloth, illust., $1.00. + Bark Cabin. 16mo, cloth, illust., $1.00. + +Margaret Sidney. + Five Little Peppers. 12mo, cloth, illust., $1.50. + Half Year at Bronckton. 12mo, cloth, $1.25. + Pettibone Name. 12mo, cloth, illust., $1.25. + So As by Fire. 12mo, cloth, illust., $1.25. + +Spare Minute Series. + Edited by E. E. BROWN. + Thoughts that Breathe. (Dean Stanley). $1.00. + Cheerful Words. (George MacDonald). $1.00. + The Might of Right. (W. E. Gladstone). $1.00. + True Manliness. (Thos. Hughes). 12mo, cloth, $1.00. + +Wide Awake Pleasure Book. + Edited by ELLA FARMAN. + Bound volumes A to M. Chromo cover, $1.50; full cloth, $2.00. + +T. D. Wolsey, D.D., LL. D. + Helpful Thoughts for Young Men. 12mo, $1.25. + +Kate Tannatt Woods. + Six Little Rebels. 12mo, cloth, illust., $1.50. + Doctor Dick. 12mo, cloth, illust., $1.50. + +C. M. Yonge. + 12mo, illustrated. + Young Folks' History of Germany. $1.50. + Young Folks' History of Greece. $1.50. + Young Folks' History of Rome. $1.50. + Young Folks' History of England. $1.50. + Young Folks' History of France. $1.50. + Young Folks' Bible History. $1.50. + Lances of Lynwood. 12mo, illust., $1.25. + Little Duke. 12mo, illust., $1.25. + Golden Deeds. 12mo, illust., $1.25. + Prince and Page. 12mo, illust., $1.25. + Little Lucy's Wonderful Globe. Boards, $.75; cloth, $1.00. + + + + + MARGARET SIDNEY'S BOOKS. + + +Margaret Sidney may be safely set down as one of the best writers of +juvenile literature in the country.--_Boston Transcript._ + +Margaret Sidney's books are happily described as "strong and pure from +cover to cover,... bright and piquant as the mountain breezes, or a dash +on pony back of a June morning." The same writer speaks of her as "An +American authoress who will hold her own in the competitive good work +executed by the many bright writing women of to-day." + +There are few better story writers than Margaret Sidney.--_Herald and +Presbyter._ + + +=Comments of the Secular and Religious Press=. + + +FIVE LITTLE PEPPERS AND HOW THEY GREW. + +A charming work.... The home scenes in which these little Peppers are +engaged are capitally described.... Will find prominent place among the +higher class of juvenile presentation books.--_Religious Herald._ + +One of the best told tales given to the children for some time ... The +perfect reproduction of child-life in its minutest phases, catches one's +attention at once.--_Christian Advocate._ + +A good book to place in the hands of every boy or girl.--Chicago +_Inter-Ocean._ + + +SO AS BY FIRE. + +Will be hailed with eager delight, and found well worth +reading.--_Christian Observer._ + +An admirable Sunday-school book--_Arkansas Evangel._ + +We have followed with intense interest the story of David Folsom ... A +man poor, friendless, and addicted to drink;... the influence of little +Cricket;... the faithful care of aunt Phebe; all steps by which he +climbed to higher manhood.--_Woman at Work._ + + +THE PETTIBONE NAME. + +It is one of the finest pieces of American fiction that has been +published for some time.--_Newsdealers' Bulletin_, New York. + +It ought to attract wide attention from the simplicity of its style, and +the vigor and originality of its treatment.--_Chicago Herald._ + +This is a capital story illustrating New England life.--_Inter-Ocean_, +Chicago. + +The characters of the story seem all to be studies from life.--_Boston +Post._ + +It is a New England tale, and its characters are true to the original type, +and show careful study and no little skill in portraiture.--_Christian +at Work_, New York. + +To be commended to readers for excellent delineations, sparkling style, +bright incident and genuine interest.--_The Watchman._ + +A capital story; bright with excellent sketches of character. Conveys +good moral and spiritual lessons ... In short, the book is in every way +well done.--_Illustrated Christian Weekly._ + + +HALF YEAR AT BRONCKTON. + +A live boy writes: "This is about the best book that ever was written or +ever can be." + +"This bright and earnest story ought to go into the hands of every boy +who is old enough to be subjected to the temptations of school life." + + +D. LOTHROP & CO., Publishers, Boston. + + + + + Books of the Celebrated Prize Series. + + +The preparation of this famous series was a happy inspiration. No books +for the young worthy of circulation have ever met so warm a welcome or +had a wider sale. The fact that each of them has passed the criticism of +a committee of clergymen of different denominations, men of high +scholarship, excellent literary taste, wide observation, and rare good +judgment, is a commendation in itself sufficient to secure for these +books the widest welcome. The fact that they are found, in every +instance, to be fully worthy of such high commendation, accounts for +their continued and increasing popularity. + + +=The $1000 prize Books.= A fresh edition in new style of binding. + +16 vols. 12mo. $24.50 + + +=The New $500 Prize Series.= A fresh edition in new style of binding. + +13 vols. 12mo. $16.75 + + +=The Original $500 Prize Series.= A fresh edition in new style of +binding. + +8 vols. 12mo. $12.00 + + +The Original $500 Prize Stories. + +Andy Luttrell. $1.50. +Shining Hours. $1.50. +Master and Pupil. $1.50. +May Bell. $1.50. +Sabrina Hackett. $1.50. +Aunt Matty. $1.50. +Light from the Cross. $1.50. +Contradictions. $1.50. + + +New $500 Prize Series. + +Short-Comings and Long-Goings. $1.25. +Lute Falconer. $1.50. +Hester's Happy Summer. $1.25. +One Year of My Life. $1.25. +Building-Stones. $1.25. +Susy's Spectacles. $1.25. +The Flower by the Prison. $1.25. +Trifles. $1.25. +The Judge's Sons. $1.50. +Daisy Seymour. $1.25. +Olive Loring's Mission. $1.25. +The Torch-Bearers. $1.25. +The Trapper's Niece. $1.25. + + +The $1000 Prize Series. + +Striking for the Right. $1.75. +Walter Macdonald. $1.50. +The Wadsworth Boys. $1.50. +Silent Tom. $1.75. +The Blount Family. $1.50. +The Marble Preacher. $1.50. +Evening Rest. $1.50. +Margaret Worthington. $1.50. +Coming to the Light. $1.50. +Ralph's Possession. $1.50. +Sunset Mountain. $1.50. +The Old Stone House. $1.50. +Golden Lines. $1.50. +Luck of Alden Farm. $1.50. +Glimpses Through. $1.50. +Grace Avery's Influence. $1.50. + + +D. LOTHROP & CO., Publishers, Boston. + + + + + Lothrop's Historical Library. + + EDITED BY ARTHUR GILMAN, M. A. + +AMERICAN PEOPLE. By Arthur Gilman, M. A. +INDIA. By Fannie Roper Feudge. +EGYPT. By Mrs. Clara Erskine Clement. +CHINA. By Robert K. Douglas. +SPAIN. By Prof. James Herbert Harrison. +SWITZERLAND. By Miss Harriet D. S. MacKenzie. +JAPAN, and its Leading Men. By Charles Lanman. +ALASKA: The Sitkan Archipelago. By Eliza Ruhamah Scidmore. + +Other volumes in preparation. + + +_Each volume_ 12_mo, Illustrated, cloth_, $1.50. + + +D. LOTHROP & CO., Publishers, + +Franklin and Hawley Streets, Boston. + + + + + Spare Minute Series. + + +THOUGHTS THAT BREATHE. + +From Dean Stanley. Introduction by Phillips Brooks. + + +CHEERFUL WORDS. + +From George MacDonald. Introduction by James T. Fields. + + +THE MIGHT OF RIGHT. + +From Rt. Hon. Wm. E. Gladstone. Introduction by John D. Long, LL. D. + + +TRUE MANLINESS. + +From Thomas Hughes. Introduction by Hon. James Russell Lowell. + + +LIVING TRUTHS. From Charles Kingsley. Introduction by W. D. Howells. + + +RIGHT TO THE POINT. + +From Theodore L. Cuyler, D. D. Introduction by Newman Hall, LL. B. + + +MANY COLORED THREADS. + +From Goethe. Introduction by Alexander McKenzie, D.D. + + +_Each volume_, 12_mo_, _cloth_, $1.00. + + +D. 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