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.