Once, long ago, Death came and took my soul And bore it far away through boundless space, And left Earth turning round within that space Moving along its path of Evolution. “Where takest thou me, Death?” my soul enquired. “To look on Life where perfect laws prevail,” Made answer he whom my Earth fears so much. And so I sped with Death on to a world Where everywhere Love and Delight prevailed. Death called it Erth. It was like my own Earth, And yet how different in every way. Everywhere Peace prevailed and Love enthralled, The Men were handsome and the Women fair. Bright fields of waving grain and fruits and flow’rs Made beautiful the human dwelling-places. There was no blood apparent anywhere— The moans of vivisected animals, The groans of millions slaughtered to make food, The awful cruelties of War and Strife, Had no existence on this planet Erth. Women and Men did not disgrace each other, But revelled in a sweet companionship, Sharing in all things as the sexes should. The children’s schools did not divide each sex But taught to both a pure and natural law, So that the very thought, in after-life, Of Prostitution had no place or part Within the brains of Nature’s true nurselings. Health was apparent in the multitude; Vast kitchens, groaning stomachs were unknown; Hunger alone proclaimed the feeding hour And pure and bloodless food gave sustenance, Partaken of in moderation and Never indulged in after hunger ceased. On Erth the secret of Real Health was known, To eat as Nature bade and not to gorge. And everywhere pure air prevailed and dwelt By night and day within a people’s lungs, And dwelling-places overlooked fair scenes, The people living on their own loved land And drawing from its nurture health and strength. There lived on this bright Erth a King and Queen Whose names were Escanior and Isola, Who loved each other, whom the people loved And who in turn truly loved their people. Said Death unto my Soul: “In ages past Thought woke the mind of Isola the first, She whom the Erthians call their deathless Queen, Because the Spirit which lit up her mind Lives on and permeates the whole of Erth. This Isola lived when this Erth was gross, Cruel and Sensual, and fed on lies. She, too, loved a fair youth—Escanior called— Whom uncouth men murdered before her eyes, Giving her to a King to be his slave, And hold degrading post as Consort Queen. But Isola’s spirit would not be a slave, And so with others she opposed foul Wrong And, dying for the Right, won the King’s heart To raise aloft the flag of Evolution. Rest here awhile and I will tell the tale Of how Isola lived, and ruled, and died; But lives again in the resultant thought Which found its birth in her evolving pow’r.” I sat and listened while Death told the tale, And learned how Erth had answered Hector’s prayer, And given him and Vergli, and Vulnar The pow’r to build on Erth a perfect State Which it has been my joy to look upon, And which here, or elsewhere, I’ll see again. For Thought is Life, it cannot die, it lives, And, in my Memory, I see that scene, Not in a dream but in Reality, When Vision wakes to Life my Thoughtful Soul. As Erth is, so shall this Earth be in time When Men believe the words of Isola.
COMPANION VOLUME TO IJAIN.
Ready, Part I. and Part II. of Lady Florence Dixie’s Book:
The Songs of a Child.
IT CONTAINS THREE COLOURED PORTRAITS.
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