Lilith Part 4

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 sh.o.r.e 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 cas.e.m.e.nts left forlorn.

Amid the shadows round about him stands, Missing the footsteps pa.s.sed to other lands, And whispers tenderly, 'Since here no more The owner bides, what harm if on the floor I pa.s.s? 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 pa.s.sing 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 s.p.a.ces 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 s.p.a.ce 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 b.u.t.terflies, 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 s.p.a.ce.

Whereat fell Lilith s.n.a.t.c.hed 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, pa.s.sed fleet Blue solitudes afar, till paused her feet, Where highest 'mong h.o.a.r 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 gra.s.ses 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 pa.s.sed; 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 cl.u.s.tered 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 s.p.a.ce 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 pa.s.s 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 pa.s.sed 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 br.i.m.m.i.n.g 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 sh.o.r.e, Like wrinkled lip. Cold was the land, and h.o.a.r 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.