A philter?—How Hautia burned before me! Glorious queen! with all the radiance, lighting up the equatorial night.
“Thou art most magical, oh queen! about thee a thousand constellations cluster.”
“They blaze to burn,” whispered Mohi.
“I see ten million Hautias!—all space reflects her, as a mirror.”
Then, in reels, the damsels once more mazed, the blossoms shaking from their brows; till Hautia, glided near; arms lustrous as rainbows: chanting some wild invocation.
My soul ebbed out; Yillah there was none! but as I turned round open- armed, Hautia vanished.
“She is deeper than the sea,” said Media.
“Her bow is bent,” said Yoomy.
“I could tell wonders of Hautia and her damsels,” said Mohi.
“What wonders?”