Within these garden walls lies safe. Wouldst roam
Without? Sweet peace, by loss, wilt thou restore
One little loss, or miss it evermore?"
"In goodly Eden, Adam, safely bide,
But I, for peace, nor love, nor life," she cried,
"Submit to thee. Unto our Lord I own
Allegiance true; my homage his alone.
Oft have I watched the mists athwart yon peaks,
Pursuing oft past coves and winding creeks,
Have thought to touch their shining veil outspread,
In happy days ere Love, alas, was dead;
So now, farewell! Ere the new day shall break
Adown their gleaming track, my way I take."
She turned; but ere the gate that looked without
She reached, one fleeting moment paused in doubt
Upon a river's brink. In one swift glance
All coming time she saw. A weird romance
Wherein she traced great peoples yet unborn,
New springing cycles, strange lands cleft with tarn
Or pleasant vale, and green plains stretching far,
And quiet bays, and many a shingly bar,
And troubled seas, with bitter perils past,
And elfin shapes that jeering flitted fast
With scornful faces, leering lips that smiled,
Or bursts of laughter through that vision wild.
Uncertain, then, she stood, half loth to turn.
"Against yon deepening sky, how dimly burn
The stars, new-lit. Dear home, thou art so fair!"
She fondly sighed.
Then sudden she was 'ware
The angel near her paused, whose watchful care
Guards Eden's peaceful bounds. Serene, his air
So tender-sweet, so pure the gentle face,
She scarce dared look upon its subtle grace.
Sad were his eyes; his words, rebuking, fell
Soft as the moonshine clear, in sleeping dell.
"My sister, go not hence, lest these gates bar
Lilith forever out. From peace afar,
Anger and pride shall lead through distant ways
Thy feet reluctant, in the evil days.
All is decreed. At yonder southern gate
Behold! waits even now my princely mate.
Thou can'st not tell which hath in our far land
The highest place. Nay; nor, indeed, whose hand
Hath grasped the noblest fame; nor yet divine
Whose brows enwound with honor, brightest shine.
In pleasant labor lurks no thought of pain;
The greatest loss oft brings the noblest gain;
The heart's warm pulse feels not one throb of strife,
And Love is holiest crown of human life.
Ere thou didst s