slid on twinkling star-beams through the air,Some sailed in shallops over the light waves,
And all who came had presents for their Queen,—
Rare tints which they had caught just as the Moon
Peered o'er the shoulder of the mighty Thug.—
Those dwelling in the caverns of the sea
Brought up the gayest jewels they could find,
And pearls from underneath their low-based bergs
Deep in the green waves, that, with thunderous sound,
Did lull the giants of the North to sleep.
There came, as time rolled by, from the far verge
Of her vast realm, the rugged guardian ghouls,
Stationed in fortresses and waging war
On all encroachers from the hated South.
These had wild forms and gaunt; their dress was rude—
Skins of the white bear fastened to their loins.
They bore long, glistening spears, and deadly clubs
Wrenched from the spines of monsters of the sea.
Their gifts were rude as they, and yet their Queen
Unbent the radiant quiet of her brow,
Gazing with favor on these proofs of valor.
Tales of achievements dread, of battles, deaths,
Had they to speak, while, with pleased ear intent,
Their sovereign listened.
One warrior ghoul
With crispy locks and frosty eyes, and breath
Chiller than death's,—naked, as scorning e'en
To wear the trophies of his fierce renown—
Before the Presence stood, and told in haste,—
As half impatient of the wish to boast,
Yet proud to serve so well—how he was called
Wole, guardian of old Thug;—how from the South
Came, ploughing slowly through the unwilling sea,
A ship, crowded with mortals from that land;
How, boldly, in defiance of commands
Sent out by skirmishing Frosts, they still drew near,
Passing the outer line of her domains;
Daring to come, with their invading eyes,
Where never mortals else had looked and lived.
He told,—and here he glanced, upon his friends,
Eyes of bright scorn—how the imperious ship
Passed safely Tug and Dor, though all the guards
Shot barbs of ice, and filled the air with fine,
Invisible needles, piercing their pained flesh,
And tore their stiffening sails with sharp-teethed winds;
How, still, the ship pressed on where He kept watch,
Ready to do new service for his Queen:
How, as it closer came, he fixed his eyes
Relentlessly upon it, till nor hand,
Nor foot, nor eyelid of the fated crew
Had power to stir, nor even the sails to flap,
While banded winds which he sent forth, still drove
The doomed ones onward to the eager shore,
Where every soul had perished, one by one.
"Thou hast done well, old Wole," Queen Oene said.
Stepping a pace in front of her companions,
With bashful cheek, but with a kindling eye—
"'Tis not for one like me to have a thought
In thy rare presence, Queen," Kolona said,—
"Yet I would dare to tell thee what I saw
Only a moon ago, when a wild freak
Possessed me to go voyaging alone,
Across the sea, to find what curious things
The other shore might hold. My lily bark,
Being too frail for such a venturous cruise
I borrowed Gondor's boat of nautilus' shells,
Put up my lua-leaf sail and swiftly sped
Across the ocean, till this level isle
Grew smaller than a star. The air grew cold:—
I almost shivered in my bird's-down mantle;
But when I neared the opposing shore, the sight
Of all its snowy scenery, repaid me.
Coasting along at leisure, on a cliff
Which overhung the sea, I saw appear
A being, whom I knew at once as Man.—
One of that mortal race which we have kept
Forever, since our chronicles began,
With war assiduous, from our inner realms,
Still undefiled by their invading feet.
The choking hurry of my noisy heart
Told me the truth. At first I would have fled,
But, being unperceived by him, I lingered,—
Inquisitive and wilful that I am.
Thenceforth, sweet Queen, I never can forget
The face of this one man which I have seen.
Triumph was on his brow, and yet not that
So much as doubt and earnest questioning.
Something arose into his eyes and shone
Which must have been his Soul; it searched the deep,
The earth, the sky, with bright and troubled gaze;
And then, glanced forward with so still a look,
It seemed that it, perforce, would vanish space,
And bring our secret world within its ken;
Yet, with no cruelty or wantonness,
Such as we hear gleamed from the cunning eyes
Of those fierce hordes who, centuries ago,
Came in their boats and strove to conquer us.
Knowledge was what it craved, with truth it burned;
A majesty we cannot name, expressed
Its power within his features. Then I felt
That, could I bring him to thy gracious feet
He would reveal to us that mystery
The dream of which so oft hath troubled us,
Breaking upon us, like the light of Heaven,
Too high for us to fix its source—that spoke
Of an eternal, comprehensive Life,
The thought of which doth haunt us. In return
We could bestow the knowledge which he craved,
And link his name with ours through all the earth,
Fearless of harm from one who only craves
The crown of Genius for his soul-lit brow.
Almost I rowed my shallop to his feet;
Almost I offered to convey him hither,
Yet feared so much, O, Queen, thy just displeasure,
That I forbore.
"Long
