Was I, I could not move it from its place.
I would have given then the bar of gold
To buy a crust, but could not. So we passed,
And came where five great rivers went their ways.
Which should we follow? One I knew
Led to the tree of life, but all the rest
Went back to death. Here a dead bird we found,
And tearing off its gaudy plumage, ate.
Upon occasional trees grew strange sparse fruits,
And these sustained us as we wandered on.
Along the banks for many a mile we went
By each of these five rivers, then returned.
So all my hope was dead, and long I prayed
That I might live to see my land again.
XI. THE MESSAGE OF THE THREE MEN.
The night came on, and unto sleep we gave
Our spirits. When the golden day was born
Veera awoke, and told me all her dream;
"Lo, in the night three men have talked with me-
Three strange good men who said the kindest words,
And said that only those who were released
From sin, could find the garden of the Lord.
And this release was bought upon a cross
By One, a Nazarene, with priceless blood.
If He would bear our sins, then we might reach
The garden; but we must not touch or eat
The tree of life that flourished in the midst."
Then I abased my soul, and prayed again,
And cast off all the burden of my sins,
Tearing my strange ambition from my heart.
And Veera, too, embraced the Christian Faith.
So we arose, and went upon our way,
And journeying eastward, Eden found at last!
XII. THE GARDEN.
The trees were housed with nests, and every one
Was like a city of song. The streams too
Were voluble; they laughed and gurgled there
Like men who, at a banquet, sit and drink
And chatter. All the grass was like a robe
Of velvet, and there was no need of rain.
In dells roofed with green leafage, nature spread
Couches meet for a Sybarite. Sweet food
The servant trees extended us to eat
In their long, branchy arms. Even the sun
Was tempered, and the sky was always blue.
Corpulent grapes along the crystal rocks,
Made consorts of the long-robed lady leaves.
The butterfly and bee, from morn till eve,
Consulted with the roses, lip to lip,
Which grew in rank profusion. They at times
Dared to invade the empire of the grass,
And overthrew its green-robed, spear-armed hosts.
The lilies too were like an army there,
And every night they struck their snowy tents,
To please their great commander, the round moon-
God's lily in the everlasting sky.
XIII. CAST OUT.
As to the heliotrope comes fluttering down
The peacock-butterfly, who sips and flies,
So each glad day gold-winged came to the land
And sipped its sip of time and fled away.
Now in an evil hour I hungered, and I saw
The tree of life that grew forbidden fruit.
What harm, I thought, is there to always live?
To live is happiness; but to die is pain.
The rental claimed by death falls due too soon.
So I reached forth, and took the fruit, and ate.
Then all the sky grew dark, and from the land
Malignant terrors drove me shrieking forth;
And as I fled, my youth abandoned me;
My hair turned gray, my shoulders stooped, my blood
Grew colder, and my perfect form was changed.
A weak old man with wrinkled face, I fled,
To wander in the wastes. Once I looked back
Upon the garden; over it the sky
Was soft and clear; and midway in the air
I saw Veera between two angels, borne
To heaven. So I turned again and fled.
XIV. "LONG LIVE THE KING."
I came at last to Mesched. It was night.
The moon, half-shadowed, trailed its silver robe
Over the tower above the eastern gate,
And there revealed the outlines of a skull
Set on a spear. The portals were unbarred.
I passed the arch, but in the shadow kept,
While on the flinty wall I edged my knife.
Then I crept on until I gained the porch
Of the great palace. There I smote the guard,
And entering in, sought out the sleeping king.
Deep in his heart I plunged my thirsty knife.
All the next day I sat before the gate,
And begged, and heard the rumors of the town;
Then, standing forth, I claimed to be their king,
And told them all my story to the end.
None pitied the dead ruler, for he knew
No pity while he lived. So I was king at last;
But all my life, and all my hope to me
Are dust and ashes, knowing that God's frown
Abides upon me. Would that I could die!
There is no kindlier spirit than content.
And there is nothing better in the world
Than to do good, and trust in God for all.