Hither to me and hide the sun,
Darken the noisy noon,
Snuff out the planets one by one,
Unleash the hot simoon;
Destroy the race Lemurian!"
And they obeyed, Aldebaran.
Thunder!
A woman by the well
Looked up wide-eyed and fell;
A shepherd leading forth his sheep,
Gasped, clutched his throat and found eternal sleep;
Ceased in the temple, horn and holy drum,
And all the vested choristers were dumb!
Rain as of fire!
The shivering of earth;
Dead is the baby at its birth—
With horror in her great dark eyes,
The new-made mother lifeless lies;
Two lovers in the spell of their first kiss
And whispered word, the dark abyss
Engulfs forever!
Night! Endless night!
There are no towers, temples, domes—
No palaces, no pillared homes;
And all that stately company
Are buried in a boiling sea!
Alas, for these, Aldebaran!
And woe to Altair and his hate!
Gone is the race Lemurian;
I weep, O Star, to sing their fate!
VI
And for a while the court was still,
Tense, waiting on the harpist's will,
From lord and lady to the King.
One spoke: "It was an evil thing!"
One: "Hush! He is about to sing."
The jester shook his golden bells,
And laughed: "A pretty tale he tells
Of Altair and Aldebaran;
Faith! Never since court-fools began
Was heard the like.—Lemurian!"
A bishop raised his mitred head:
"It was the Flood, I think"—he said.
"Aye, even so"—replied a priest:
"Was not that city in the east?
Altair?—Apocalyptic Beast!"
Then spake the King upon his throne:
"Never such harping have I known;
It is a right majestic tale—
How poetry and song prevail
On sword and shield and burnished mail!"