And saw the walls agleam with painted glass,
More brilliant than the jewels of eastern kings;
I heard the organ like winds sweeping across the sea,
And the voices of the singing-boys
Like soft ripples on the velvet sand.
With golden cross and smoking censers
And priests in robes of scarlet and purple,
The procession passed along;
Then the great sweating throng
Bowed low upon the stony floor before the Host,
And when the echoing music
Had vanished in the soaring vault above,
The crowd went forth from the gorgeous gloom
Comforted, into the golden sun-light.
My soul, too, was comforted,
For it had drunk deep
From the pure mediæval well of faith.
III.
I saw a vision of love.
Upon the field of battle
Amid dust and smoke and shrouds of poisonous vapour
Red streams of youthful blood were poured upon the ground,
Generously,
Joyfully,
That the world might not die from its festering wounds,
But might drink health and life
From these pure, youthful streams.
Then I stood awed and dumb,
For here was love supreme.
IV.
I saw a vision of death.
Silence held my feet with clinging hands,
And Darkness put heavy fingers across my eyes.
Then Darkness raised her hands, and I saw in the gray shadows
A great night-moth with sable folded wings;
It seemed asleep upon a purple flower,
But as I watched,
Slowly it spread its wings,
And from them shone a gleam of crimson dawn,
And all the world was drenched in showers of light.
Then with his flaming wings outspread
The great moth sailed away,
Like a scarlet boat upon a dawn-swept sea,
Leaving behind a wake of golden light.
And I know that my vision of death
Was only a vision of beauty.
JAPANESE PRINTS
I.—THE LADY WITH THE YELLOW FAN
O little lady with the yellow fan
Why are you so sad?
Why does a tear stand
Like a tea-flower bud upon your cheek?
Your dress is of blue and scarlet silk,
Your slippers are embroidered with gems,
A gold and emerald butterfly has lighted in your hair,
Your serving-maid stands near
Awaiting your command,
And if you lifted but one slender finger
A chariot would come and carry you away to your father's palace.
Why are you so sad?
It is because the ships beside the shore
Spread their dark sails to the sea-blowing breeze;
The tide is high, and soon will set toward the distant islands,
And there is a gleam of swords and armour,
For the soldiers go to war beyond the seas.