Part III: The Mystic Ruby

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

Priests in flowing yellow robesGlided under rosy globesThrough the green pomegranate boughsMoonbeams poured their coloured rain;Roofs of sea-green porcelainJutted o'er the rose-red house;Bells were hung beneath its eaves;Every wind that stirred the leavesTinkled as tired water does.

The temple had a low broad baseOf black bright marble; all its faceWas marble bright in rosy bloom;And where two sea-green pillars roseDeep in the flower-soft eave-shadowsWe saw, thro' richly sparkling gloom,Wrought in marvellous years of oldWith 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 dreamedOf how that dark rich temple gleamedWith gules of jewelled gloom within;And as we wondered near the doorA priest came o'er the polished floorIn sandals of soft serpent-skin;His mitre shimmered bright and blueWith pigeon's breast-plumes. When he knewOur quest he stroked his broad white chin,And looked at us with slanting eyesAnd smiled; then through his deep disguiseWe knew him! It was Creeping Sin!

But cunningly he bowed his headDown on his gilded breast and saidCome: and he led us through the duskOf passages whose painted wallsGleamed with dark old festivals;Till where the gloom grew sweet with muskAnd incense, through a door of amberWe came into a high-arched chamber.

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

It wore about its bulging waistA belt of dark green bronze enchasedWith big, soft, cloudy pearls; its wristsWere clasped about with moony gemsGathered from dead kings' diadems;Its throat was ringed with amethysts,And in its awful hand it heldA 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 IWill slay thee with my hands." The slyLong eyelids of the priest beganTo slant aside; and then once moreHe led us through the fragrant door.

And now along the passage wallsWere painted hideous animals,With hooded eyes and cloven stings:In the incense that like shadowy hairStreamed over them they seemed to stirTheir craggy claws and crooked wings.At last we saw strange moon-wreaths curlAround a deep, soft porch of pearl.

O, what enchanter wove in dreamsThat chapel wild with shadowy gleamsAnd prismy colours of the moon?Shrined like a rainbow in a mistOf flowers, the fretted amethystArches rose to a mystic tune;And never mortal art inlaidThose cloudy floors of sea-soft jade.

There, in the midst, an idol roseWhite as the silent starlit snowsOn lonely Himalayan heights:Over its head the spikenard spilledDown to its feet, with myrrh distilledIn distant, odorous Indian nights:It held before its ivory faceA flaming yellow chrysoprase.

O, silkily murmured Creeping Sin,"This is the stone you wished to win."But in his ear the tall thin manWhispered with slow, strange lips--we knewNot what, but Creeping Sin went blueWith fear; again his eyes beganTo slant aside; then through the porchHe passed, and lit a tall, brown torch.

Down a corridor dark as death,With beating hearts and bated breathWe hurried; far away we heardA dreadful hissing, fierce as fireWhen rain begins to quench a pyre;And where the smoky torch-light flaredStrange 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 grewLouder and louder on our ears,And tortured us with eyeless fears;Then suddenly the gloom turned blue,And, in the wall, a rough rock caveGaped, like a phosphorescent grave.

And from the purple mist withinThere came a wild tumultuous dinOf snakes that reared their heads and hissedAs if a witch's cauldron boiled;All round the door great serpents coiled,With eyes of glowing amethyst,Whose fierce blue flames began to slideLike shooting stars from side to side.

Ah! with a sickly gasping grinAnd quivering eyelids, Creeping SinStole 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 manOpened his turquoise-tinted fanAnd entered; and the mists grew bright,And we saw that the cave was a diamond hallLit with lamps for a festival.A myriad globes of coloured lightWent gliding deep in its massy sides,Like the shimmering moons in the glassy tidesWhere 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 spheresWe saw in a frame of frozen tearsA mirror that made the blood run cold.

For, when we came to it, we foundIt imaged everything aroundExcept the face that gazed in it;And where the mirrored face should beA heart-shaped Ruby fierilySmouldered; 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 flameThat shall make earth and heaven the sameWhen 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 manAnd we saw that his face grew sad and wan:Tears were glistening in his eyes:At last, with a breaking sob, he bentHis head upon his breast and wentSwiftly away! With dreadful criesWe rushed to the softly glimmering doorAnd 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 heardThe hissing of the snakes again:How could we front them all alone?O, madly we clutched at the mirrored stoneAnd wished we were back on the flowery plain:And swifter than thought and swift as fearThe 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 fanSpread by the blue sea, faint and far;And far away we heard once moreA sound of singing on the shore,Where boys in blue kimonos boreRoses 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 layThe glass that had whirled us thither away:And in the grass, among the flowersWe 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 soonThe trees all fled up towards the moonLike 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 moreThat 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 plainSinging what none of us understood;Yet we thought that the world grew thrice more sweetAnd 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 throngThro' the blossom that scented the wonderful song.