ul murmuring.
These many days I weary of thy sighs;
Know, Lilith, I alone rule Paradise."
Thereat he rose, and quick at every stride
The fawning leopard gambolled at his side.
So fell the first dark shadow of Earth's strife.
With coming evil all the winds were rife.
Lone lay the land with sense of dull loss paled.
The days grew sick at heart; the sunshine failed;
And falling waters breathed in silvery moan
A hidden ail to starlit dells alone--
As sometimes you have seen, 'neath household eaves,
'Mong scents of Springtime, in the budded leaves,
The swallows circling blithe, with slant brown wing,
Home-flying fleet, with tender chattering,
And all the place o'errun with nested love--
So have you come, when leaves hung crisp above
The silent door. Yet not again, I ween,
Those shining wings, cleaving the air, have seen
Nor heard the gladsome swallows twittering there--
Only the empty nests, low-hung and bare,
Spake of the scattered brood.--So lonely were
To Lilith grown her once loved haunts. Nor fair
The starlit nights, slow-dropping fragrant dew,
Nor the dim groves when dawn came shifting through.
Far 'mong the hills the wood-doves' moan she heard,
Or in some nearer copse, a startled bird;
Or the white moonshine 'mong green boughs o'erhead
Wrought her full heart to tears. "Sweet peace," she said,
"Alas--lies slain!"
With musing worn, she brake
At last her silence, and to Adam spake:
"Beyond these walls I know not what may be--
Islands low-fringed, or bare; or tranquil sea,
Spaces unpeopled, wastes of burning sands,
Green-wooded belts, enclasping summer lands,
Or realms of dusky pines, or wolds of snow,
Or jagged ice-peaks wrapt in purple glow,
Or shadowy oceans lapped in fadeless sheen--
Yet there were Paradise, were Lilith queen.
To dally with my lord I was not meant;
To soothe his idle whims, above him bent,
Warm in my milk-white arms, lull his repose,
Nor deep in subtle kisses drown his woes.
Wherefore, since here no more dwells love, I fly
To seek my home in other lands. For why
Should Lilith wait since Adam's empty state
More dear he holds than Lilith desolate?"
But answer soft made Adam at the word,
For faint his dying love, yet coldly stirred
Its ashen cerements: "Nay, love, our home