Hailed him, and led by him would patient toil
In forest depths, ’mid desert mansions old
And temples drear—their history to unfold.
Within a white stone urn in ancient tomb,
Charred heart and talisman lay in the gloom.
To her he gave the gem,—“Now take thine own,
I pray; henceforth it must be thine alone.”
In dancing flame the mortal dust from urn
Was thrown. “A form ascends from what doth burn!”
The natives loud exclaimed, “A princely shade