Part 4

She came to the Old Queen’s presence, in the Hall of Our Thousand Years-- In the Hall of the Five Free Nations that are peers among their peers: Royal she gave the greeting, loyal she bowed the head, Crying--‘Crown me, my Mother!’ And the Old Queen stood and said:--

‘How can I crown thee further? I know whose standard flies Where the clean surge takes the Leeuwin or the coral barriers rise. Blood of our foes on thy bridle, and speech of our friends in thy mouth-- How can I crown thee further, O Queen of the Sovereign South?

‘Let the Five Free Nations witness!’ But the Young Queen answered swift:-- ‘It shall be crown of Our crowning to hold Our crown for a gift. In the days when Our folk were feeble thy sword made sure Our lands: Wherefore We come in power to take Our crown at thy hands.’

And the Old Queen raised and kissed her, and the jealous circlet prest, Roped with the pearls of the Northland and red with the gold of the West, Lit with her land’s own opals, levin-hearted, alive, And the Five-starred Cross above them, for sign of the Nations Five.

So it was done in the Presence--in the Hall of Our Thousand Years, In the face of the Five Free Nations that have no peer but their peers; And the Young Queen out of the Southland kneeled down at the Old Queen’s knee, And asked for a mother’s blessing on the excellent years to be.

And the Old Queen stooped in the stillness where the jewelled head drooped low:-- ‘Daughter no more but Sister, and doubly Daughter so-- Mother of many princes--and child of the child I bore, What good thing shall I wish thee that I have not wished before?

‘Shall I give thee delight in dominion--mere pride of thy setting forth? Nay, we be women together--we know what that lust is worth. Peace in thy utmost borders, and strength on a road untrod? These are dealt or diminished at the secret will of God.

‘I have swayed troublous councils, I am wise in terrible things; Father and son and grandson, I have known the heart of the Kings. Shall I give thee my sleepless wisdom, or the gift all wisdom above? Ay, we be women together--I give thee thy people’s love:

‘Tempered, august, abiding, reluctant of prayers or vows, Eager in face of peril as thine for thy mother’s house. God requite thee, my Sister, through the wonderful years to be, And make thy people to love thee as thou hast loved me!’

RIMMON [Page 123]

Duly with knees that feign to quake-- Bent head and shaded brow,-- Yet once again, for my father’s sake, In Rimmon’s House I bow.

The curtains part, and the trumpet blares, And the eunuchs howl aloud; And the gilt, swag-bellied idol glares Insolent over the crowd.

‘_This is Rimmon, Lord of the Earth--_ ‘_Fear Him and bow the knee!_’ And I watch my comrades hide their mirth That rode to the wars with me.

For we remember the sun and the sand And the rocks whereon we trod, Ere we came to a scorched and a scornful land That did not know our God;

As we remember the sacrifice Dead men an hundred laid-- Slain while they served His mysteries And that He would not aid.

Not though we gashed ourselves and wept, For the high-priest bade us wait; Saying He went on a journey or slept, Or was drunk or had taken a mate.

(_Praise ye Rimmon, King of Kings, Who ruleth Earth and Sky!_ And again I bow as the censer swings And the God Enthroned goes by.)

Ay, we remember His sacred ark And the virtuous men that knelt To the dark and the hush behind the dark Wherein we dreamed He dwelt;

Until we entered to hale Him out, And found no more than an old Uncleanly image girded about The loins with scarlet and gold.

Him we o’erset with the butts of our spears-- Him and His vast designs-- To be the scorn of our muleteers And the jest of our halted lines.

By the picket-pins that the dogs defile, In the dung and the dust He lay, Till the priests ran and chattered awhile And wiped Him and took Him away.

Hushing the matter before it was known, They returned to our fathers afar, And hastily set Him afresh on His throne Because He had won us the war.

Wherefore with knees that feign to quake-- Bent head and shaded brow-- To this dead dog, for my father’s sake, In Rimmon’s House I bow.

Printed by T. and A. CONSTABLE, Printers to His Majesty

at the Edinburgh University Press

Transcriber’s Notes

Transcriber remedied a missing left parenthesis.

The text contains many unbalanced single quotation marks. This appears to have been done deliberately.