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.