Lilith. The Legend Of The First Woman. Book II. By Ada Langworthy Collier

    Soft stealing through the shade, and skirting swift
    The walls of Paradise, through night’s dark rift
    Lilith fled far; nor stopped lest deadly snare
    Or peril by the wayside lurked.
    The air
    Grew chill. Loud beat her heart, as through the wind
    Echoed, unseen, pursuing feet, behind.

    Adown the pathway of the mist she passed,
    And reached a weird, strange land at last.
    When morning flecked the dappled sky with red,
    And odors sweet from waking flowers were shed,
    Lilith beheld a plain, outstretching wide,
    With distant mountains seamed.
    Afar, a silvery tide
    The blue shore kissed.    And in that tropic glow
    Dim islands shone, palm-fringed, and low.
    In nearer space, like scarlet arrows flew
    Strange birds, or ‘mong the reedy fens, or through
    Tall trees, of unknown leafage, glancing, went.
    Now Lilith seaward passed, and stooping, bent
    Her hollowed hand above the wave, and quaffed;
    For she was spent with wanderings wide.    Loud laughed
    She then, beholding on that silent shore
    Rare shells, that still faint in their pink lips bore
    Wild ocean-songs; and precious stones, that bright
    That dim sea’s marge, deep in the land of night
    Thick strewed.
    Then glad, she lifted shining eyes,
    Loud crying there, “O Lilith, now arise,
    Great queen-triumphant! See how wildly fair
    Before me lies my realm! And from its air
    Soft, sensuous, new life as ruddy wine,
    My spirit drinks. Nor beauty so divine
    Hath Eden’s self. Look, where upon the sands
    The garish mosses spread with dainty hands,
    Like goblin network fine, each fairy frond.
    And dusky trees shut in broad fields beyond,
    And hang long trembling garlands, age-grown-gray,
    From topmost boughs adown, athwart the day;
    And sweet amid these wilds, bright dewy bells
    Ring summer chimes.    And soft in fragrant dells,
    ‘Mong tender leaves, great spikes of scarlet flaunt
    About the pools–the errant wild bees’ haunt–
    And thick with bramble-blooms pink petals starred,
    And dew-stained buds of blue, the velvet sward.
    Scarce ripple stirred the sea; and inland wend
    Far bays and sedgy ponds; and rolling rivers bend.
    A land of leaf and fruitage in the glow
    Of palest glamours steeped. And far and low
    Great purple isles; and further still a rim
    Of sunset-tinted hills, that softly dim
    Shine ‘gainst the day. “O world, new found,” she said,
    “With treasures heaped and odors rare, ‘mong flowers shed,
    For whose dear sake I came o’er flinty ways,
    And paths with danger fraught; ‘mong brambly sprays,
    With bleeding feet, and shoulders thorn-pierced deep.
    But perils past, fade fast. And I will weep
    My Eden lost no more.” And sweet and low
    As one who dreams, she said, “For now I know
    These mountain heights, these level plains, are mine.”
    She ceased, and inland quickly turned. “Fair shine
    Strange fruits thick-set, or blossoms lightly tossed
    Low at my feet.” Therewith, a dusk globe, crossed
    With golden bands, from bent boughs, stripped she. Through
    The gleaming sphere its nectrous juices drew,
    And thirsting cried–as one grown drunken: “Mine
    These fruits unknown, in thorny combs that shine,
    Or gray-green spikes that glow, dull on the sands.
    Fain would I pluck, out-reaching eager hands,
    Save that a marvel grows of ruddier rind
    Out-flinging fruity breath upon the wind,
    Beneath harsh spines half-hid. Nor drains
    My wilful spouse such nectars fine. Nor gains
    His patient care the fruitage rare, these plains
    That heaps unheeded. Nay, nor bearded grains
    Golding this goodly land, where Lilith reigns.”

    So passed the glad years on, and o’er her home–
    Its woods and mountains, its clear streams–to roam,
    She loved. The inmost throb of Nature’s heart
    She felt amid the grass. Each daintiest part
    Of Nature’s work she knew; each gain, each loss.
    And reverent watched on high the starry cross
    Gleaming, mute symbol in that southern dome
    Of One–the Promised One–of days to come.

    The rifted sea-shell on the shingly beach
    She scanned, pitying each inmate gone. Each
    Named. ‘Mong beetling crags, the sea-bird’s home,
    Light-footed, went. Or, idly, in the foam
    Under the cocoa-palms, her fingers dipped,
    Much marveling to see where featly slipped
    Beneath the waves scaled creatures, crimson-dyed
    Or luminous: Barred-yellow, purple pied,
    Rose-tinted, opaline, or dight with stain,
    Rich as the rainbow streaks, when through the rain
    The Sun’s kiss falls. Much wondered she when bright
    By sedgy pools, flamingoes stalked. And light
    The startled ostrich bent his headlong flight
    O’er desert bare. And on the woody height
    Trooped zebras, velvet-brown.    The date’s green crest
    Beneath, the peaceful camels lay at rest.
    And slender-straight camelopards the boughs
    Down-drew, the lush-green leaves thereon to browse.
    Or oft ‘mong oozy bogs, or through the fens,
    Fearless she went, when low, ‘mong reedy dens
    The water-courses by, huge creatures slept,
    Or in the jungles spotted panthers crept,
    And in the thickets deadly serpents wound
    Like blossomed wreaths, their coils upon the ground.
    All forms of life she saw; with tenderest care
    Uplifting humblest sprays, or blooms most rare.
    Pierced the deep heart of Nature’s subtlest lore,
    Touched highest knowledge, probed the inmost core
    Of hidden things. She tracked each circling world
    And the wide sweep of billows lightly curled.
    Each page the Master writ she read, close furled
    In lotus blooms, or, ‘mong the storm-clouds whirled;
    Or traced, star-lettered, on the flaming scroll
    The night unwinds toward the southern pole.
    And sometimes wiling idle days, she wove
    In quaint device, gems from her treasure-trove,
    Rare garlanded, or set in flashing zone
    Soft emerald, sapphire pale, and many a stone
    Out-gleaming amethyst. Her yellow hair
    Among, the glinting diamonds shone. And there
    The sultry topaz burned. And laughing, twined
    She round her bare white throat red rubies shrined
    In pearls.
    Or she among the haunts would rove
    That sheltered island birds; or in the grove,
    Or ‘mong the rocky cliffs, where dainty nests
    They fashioned swift. She scaled the seaward crests,
    And on the sands piled turtle eggs, when all
    About hoarse-shrieked the water-fowl, or call
    Of plovers fell among the tangled glens,
    Or lonely bitterns’ boom came o’er the fens.
    So traversed she her realm, when mangoes green
    Baobabs by, showed freshest hues; and sheen
    Of silver touched acacias slight; and lone
    The solitary aloes, dreamed. The moan
    Of that far sea against the shore brake soft.
    And through that blossom-burdened land as oft
    She roamed and far, sweet sped the passing days.
    Till one dawned fairest, in whose noon-tide haze
    Sweet slumbering she lay; and dreamed-steeped still,
    Half conscious, caught the tinkle of a rill
    In far-off Paradise. More silver clear
    Across her thoughts, as once she loved to hear,
    Rippled the waters, low against the stones
    Where poised gemmed dragon-flies;    and sudden moans
    Shook ‘mong blue flags. Waked, vague unrest
    And tender yearning rose within her breast,
    And longing love, that she ne’er more might still.
    When late upon her parting day smiled chill,
    Pensive she gazed upon the darkling land,
    With lingering feet o’er-passed the shining strand,
    And silent sat on an o’erhanging ledge,
    The sea o’erlooking. Far the horizon’s edge
    Athwart her gaze a rim of blue hills cleft,
    Whereat she sighed. “So rose, ere I them left,
    So smiled, the dim hills round my Eden home.
    But I–wherefore recall, when far I roam,
    Dreams vanished–gone? And now since long time dead
    Is that fair past, I fain would lay it low
    Where soft about it memories sweet may blow
    As summer winds the fallen leaves among.”
    Then passed her tender thoughts, and loud and glad
    As our morn wakens, strong that yesternight slept sad,
    She sang. The song triumphant upward swelled,
    Unsorrowed by soft dreams or thoughts of eld–
    As fresh the full, free, mellow notes did rise
    As the blithe skylark’s strain, anear the skies:

    High, high, bold Eagle, soar;
    I watch thy flight, above thy cragg�d rock.
    Below thee, torrents roar,
    Down-bursting wild with angry shock
    Upon the vales. O proud bird, free,
    My spirit, mounting, follows thee,
    Still follows thee, still follows thee.

    O Sea–O Sea so wide!
    Far roll thy waves ere yet they find thy shore.
    I hear thy sullen tide
    Break ‘neath the beetling cliffs with muffled roar.
    Afar, afar, O moaning Sea,
    My roving soul still follows thee,
    Still follows thee, still follows thee.

    O Whirlwind black–O strong!
    Thy scorching breath fierce burns the crouching land
    And thou dost sweep along
    The raveled clouds. O Whirlwind, see–
    My spirit rising, follows thee,
    Still follows thee, still follows thee.

    Nay, nay! My dauntless soul,
    Still higher than thy wing, O Eagle, soars,
    And wider still than roll
    Thy waves, and further than thy shores,
    My spirit flees–O Sea–O Sea
    No more it follows, follows thee.

    Whirlwind, more strong than thou
    My soul, that fearless leaps to thine embrace
    And thy stern, wrinkled brow
    Doth tender touch and soothingly,
    And vassal art thou still to me,
    That no more, Whirlwind, follows thee.

    Swift changed her mood, and darkened in her face.
    As sometimes in an open, sunny place
    The sudden dusks o’er crinkling waters run,
    So fell her thoughts to music. And as one
    That grieves, she sang.    That lay–soft, weirdly clear,
    The babbling waves made murmurous pause to hear:

    Fair land (she sang), O sun-steeped realm of mine,
    The Sun, thy lover, hath his farewell kiss.
    I only pine
    While dim stars shine.

    Strong is thy Day-god! yet his parting kiss
    Falls soft upon thy faltering lips. O land,
    Thou hast a bliss
    I ever miss.

    Fast comes the night, and warm, for thy dear sake,
    The shadows curtain dusk, thy lonely rest.
    I only wake
    My plaint to make.

    Fair land, my lover cold, doth careless take
    From my shut lips his flight. Here leaves me lone
    My moan to make,
    My heart to break.

    She ceased. But still the song did float and fade,
    As failing sunshine soft, in woodland glade.
    And Lilith, listening, heard–so wild, so shrill,
    Yet dream-like, far, again that tinkling rill
    In Paradise. And o’er her spirit swept
    A sadness bitter-sweet, as ‘neath the green palms crept
    The wind, low-sighing, faint. As from lone nest
    A bird torn pinion lifts, striving to soar
    To shelter safe, so, Edenward once more
    Turned Lilith’s drooping thoughts.
    Uprose she then,
    And brooding, homeward slowly went again.