eek.
Say, if indeed thou findest anywhere,
On land or sea, created things so rare?"
And Lilith answered, "On this earth so round,
Naught else so lovely anywhere I found.
So shames it meaner work--so had I said--
But see yon nodding palm that droops its head
Low sighing o'er the wave. Bring me a bough
So feathery-fine. Turn thy white sphere! Now
On its cold, fair surface, Eblis, canst thou
Such branches carve, or tender fronds, that we
Bright waving on the cocoa, these may see?"
And Eblis wrought till grew upon the stone
Such airy boughs as on the cocoa shone.
Then Lilith cried: "Skilled craftsman, proven thou!
Didst thou, then, make my cocoa-tree? Thy bough
Pale graven give the grace of its green crown
When through it night winds gently slip adown.
No charm of color, nor of change, nor glow
Of blue noon sky, thy carven work doth show;
Let dusk bees visit it--or sip the breath
From thy chill marble buds." Then, Lilith saith,
"Eblis hath wroughten noblest on this earth."
He answered quick, "Poor bauble, little worth
To Lilith! Ope thy slighted husk, reveal
The miracle thy rough rind doth conceal!"

He touched a hidden spring, and wide apart
The riven sphere showed its white hollow heart,
And in the midst a gem; the which he laid
Within her hand. "Behold," he said, "I made
Most fair for thee this lustrous blood-red sard,
And deftly traced its gleaming surface hard
With carvings thick of bright acacias slim,
Pomegranates lush and river-reeds. Its rim
A spray of leaves enchased, white as with rime
Night fallen. 'Slow drags the lagging time,'
I said, 'till one day shines upon the breast
Of her, whose perfect beauty worthiest
It decks, this gem.' The token, Lilith, take;
If lovelier there be, for Eblis' sake
Keep silent; yet with me, oh Lilith, go
Awhile from thine own land. Then shall I know
The gem finds favor in thine eyes."
Then she
Turned from her pleasance and all silently
Passed to the sea, across the yellow strand
That, glimmering, ringed her shadowy land.
"Oh cool," he said, "the lucent waves that fret
The barren shore, and curl their scattered spray wet
'Gainst thy hand. Come! my longing pinnace waits
To bear thee far. Her slender keel now grates
Upon the beach;