Cold stone! if dowered thou by magic deep,
What then—if silence thou must ever keep?
Jadeite grey-green, by ancients called divine,
Till Earth grow cold this talisman may shine;
As it hath seen long eons in the past,
So may it yet man’s memory outlast.”
’Twas thus the dreamer meditating thought,
Till by her strong desire some rays were caught.
A mystic clue this stone of magic, yea,
To scenes of long ago—but find the way.