Lilith Part 6

Foul Vampire, drain not From my loved one The life-current red. O Demon, art breaking My heart while I plead? Ah, babe! Art thou waking?

Lilith, I live!

Closer my babe!

Far o'er the dun wold, Baby, behold 'Mid the mist and the snow, fast, fast, and more fast- In the teeth of the blast-flies Lilith at last.

Pale Lilith flies!

Nearer, my babe!

By Ganges still the Indian mother weaves Above her babe her mat of plantain leaves, And laughing, plaits. Or pausing, sweet and low Her voice blends with the river's drowsy flow; The while she fitful sings that old, old strain, Forgetting that the love, the deathless pain Of wandering Lilith lives and throbs again When falls the tricksy Elf-babes' mocking cry Faintly across her crooning lullaby-

Ah, happy babe, that here may sleep Where the blue river winds along, And sweet the trysting bulbuls keep The night o'er-brimmed with pulsing song.

Not so, mine own, as legends tell, In lands remote, beyond the day, The soulless babes of Lilith dwell, Or vanish 'mong the cold mists gray.

Or oft in elfin glee they ride O'er burning deserts blown adrift, Or singing idly, idly glide Afar beyond Night's purple rift.

But thou, my babe, for thee shall grow The lilies, nodding by the stream; For thee, the poppy's sleepy glow; For thee, the jonquil's pallid gleam.

My baby, sleep! Against the sky The pippul lifts its trembling crest.

O baby, hush each wailing cry, Close to the holy river's breast.

Not here shall come that pale wraith fair, Who, wandering once in Northern lands, Bore o'er long reaches sere and bare The death-flower white, for baby hands.

Fear not, mine own, the Elf-babes shrill, Nor Lilith tall, with brow of snow.

They may not haunt thy slumbers still Where Ganges' sacred waters flow.

Where coral reefs gnaw with white cruel teeth The yellow surf, and the torn billows seethe- When shines the Southern Cross o'er placid isles, The Afric mother sits, and singing, smiles, Unheeding that a dead world's hidden pain Beats wildly rhythmic through her pure refrain, And lingers softly still an echoed sigh Low in Earth's cradle-song-sweet lullaby.

A warning song of doom-a song of woe, Of terror wild, she sings, down bending low, The while bright gleams the Starry Cross above Yet tells to her no tale of tender love Of Him who lifteth after-time a cross That healeth all the wide world's sin and loss.

Ah, linger no longer 'mong blooms of the mangoes, Nor pluck the bright sh.e.l.ls by the low sighing sea, Swift, swift, through the groves of the palms and acacias Comes Lilith, the childless one, seeking for thee.

She will bind thee so fast in her yellow-gold hair- Ah, hasten, my children, of Lilith beware!

Cold, cold are her cheeks as the spray of the wild sea, Red, red are her lips as the pomegranate's bloom; Cold, cold are the kisses the phantom will give thee, Ah, cruel her kisses, that smell of the tomb.

Hist, hist! 'tis the sorceress with yellow-gold hair- Oh! lullaby, baby-of Lilith beware.

She flies to the jungle, with false tales beguiling, Ah, hear'st thou her elfin babes scream overhead!

Close, close in her strong arms she bears my babe, smiling; She hath sucked the soft bloom from the lips of my dead.

Now far speeds the vampire, with yellow-gold hair- Oh! lullaby, baby-of Lilith beware!

Art frighted, my baby? Nay, then, thy mother Low singing enfolds thee all safe from the snare; Afar flit the Elf-babes 'mid gray, misty shadows, Afar flees the temptress with yellow-gold hair.

Ah, heed not her songs in the still slumbrous air- Oh! lullaby, baby-of Lilith beware!

When hawthorn-trees sift thick their rifted snow, The English mother o'er her babe sings low; Where red the cross burns on the ivied fane, Unwitting, pagan Lilith lives again- And softer sings, nor feels the wailing pain Still faintly surging through that low refrain; Nor dreams she hears Love's early cradle cry Slow echoing through Earth's song-sweet lullaby- And in the shadow of that cross, her strain Breathes sweetly; love, and hope, and ended pain.

Softlier while that small arm closely clings About her heart, that mother peaceful sings:

O babe, my babe, the light doth fade!

My baby, sleep, while I do keep Close watch, where thou art lowly laid.

Sweet dreams shall steep thy slumber deep.

Ah, little feet, be still at last- Rest all the night, for day is past; One watches thee from yon blue sky, One watching here sings lullaby, Lullaby; Sings lullaby.

Here on his bed the sunny head Lies still; and soft the brown eyes close; Sweet steals the breath, 'twixt lips as red, As dewy fresh, as new-born rose.

O little lips, be hushed at last; Fear naught, sweetheart, though day be past.

One looks adown from yon far sky, One close beside, sings lullaby, Lullaby; Sings lullaby.