PART III

THE MYSTIC RUBY

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Silkily murmured Creeping Sin, “This is the stone you wished to win!” “White Snake,” replied the tall thin man, “Show us the Ruby Stone, or I Will slay thee with my hands.” The sly Long eyelids of the priest began To slant aside; and then once more He led us through the fragrant door.

And now along the passage walls Were painted hideous animals, With hooded eyes and cloven stings: In the incense that like shadowy hair Streamed over them they seemed to stir Their craggy claws and crooked wings. At last we saw strange moon-wreaths curl Around a deep, soft porch of pearl.

O, what enchanter wove in dreams That chapel wild with shadowy gleams And prismy colours of the moon? Shrined like a rainbow in a mist Of flowers, the fretted amethyst Arches rose to a mystic tune; And never mortal art inlaid Those cloudy floors of sea-soft jade.

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

O, silkily murmured Creeping Sin, “This is the stone you wished to win.” But in his ear the tall thin man _Whispered with slow, strange lips_--we knew Not what, but Creeping Sin went blue With fear; again his eyes began To slant aside; then through the porch He passed, and lit a tall, brown torch.

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

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

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

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

And fearlessly the tall thin man Opened his turquoise-tinted fan And entered; and the mists grew bright, And we saw that the cave was a diamond hall Lit with lamps for a festival. A myriad globes of coloured light Went gliding deep in its massy sides, Like the shimmering moons in the glassy tides Where a sea-king’s palace enchants the night.

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

For, when we came to it, we found It imaged everything around Except the face that gazed in it; And where the mirrored face should be A heart-shaped Ruby fierily Smouldered; and round the frame was writ, _Mystery: Time and Tide shall pass, I am the Wisdom Looking-Glass._ _This is the Ruby none can touch: Many have loved it overmuch; Its fathomless fires flutter and sigh, Being as images of the flame That shall make earth and heaven the same When the fire of the end reddens the sky, And the world consumes like a burning pall, Till where there is nothing, there is all._

So we looked up at the tall thin man And we saw that his face grew sad and wan: Tears were glistening in his eyes: At last, with a breaking sob, he bent His head upon his breast and went Swiftly away! With dreadful cries We rushed to the softly glimmering door And stared at the hideous corridor But his robe was gone as a dream that flies: Back to the glass in terror we came, And stared at the writing round the frame.

We could not understand one word: And suddenly we thought we heard The hissing of the snakes again: How could we front them all alone? O, madly we clutched at the mirrored stone And wished we were back on the flowery plain: And swifter than thought and swift as fear The whole world flashed, and behold we were there.

Yes; there was the port of Old Japan, With its twisted patterns, white and wan, Shining like a mottled fan Spread by the blue sea, faint and far; And far away we heard once more A sound of singing on the shore, Where boys in blue kimonos bore Roses in a golden jar: And we heard, where the cherry orchards blow, The serpent-charmers fluting low, And the song of the maidens of Miyako.

And at our feet unbroken lay The glass that had whirled us thither away: And in the grass, among the flowers We sat and wished all sorts of things: O, we were wealthier than kings! We ruled the world for several hours! And then, it seemed, we knew not why, All the daisies began to die.

We wished them alive again; but soon The trees all fled up towards the moon Like peacocks through the sunlit air: And the butterflies flapped into silver fish; And each wish spoiled another wish; Till we threw the glass down in despair; For, getting whatever you want to get, Is like drinking tea from a fishing net.

At last we thought we’d wish once more That all should be as it was before; And then we’d shatter the glass, if we could; But just as the world grew right again, We heard a wanderer out on the plain Singing what none of us understood; Yet we thought that the world grew thrice more sweet And the meadows were blossoming under his feet.

And we felt a grand and beautiful fear, For we knew that a marvellous thought drew near; So we kept the glass for a little while: And the skies grew deeper and twice as bright, And the seas grew soft as a flower of light, And the meadows rippled from stile to stile; And memories danced in a musical throng Thro’ the blossom that scented the wonderful song.

SONG

_We sailed across the silver seas And saw the sea-blue bowers, We saw the purple cherry trees, And all the foreign flowers, We travelled in a palanquin Beyond the caravan, And yet our hearts had never seen The Flower of Old Japan._

_The Flower above all other flowers, The Flower that never dies;_ _Before whose throne the scented hours Offer their sacrifice; The Flower that here on earth below Reveals the heavenly plan; But only little children know The Flower of Old Japan._

There, in the dim blue flowery plain We wished with the magic glass again To go to the Flower of the song’s desire: And o’er us the whole of the soft blue sky Flashed like fire as the world went by, And far beneath us the sea like fire Flashed in one swift blue brilliant stream, And the journey was done, like a change in a dream.