From an unsympathetic world I flee
To you, your love and fellowship I crave,
O Singers dead, Sauda and Mushafi,
I lay my song as tribute on your grave.
VOICE IN THE AIR
The vaulted roof opens. The guests feel that a Being is entering from above. They see nothing, but all hear a voice in the air.
High above the clouds in the Home of Light I
dwell.
My days are passed in the peace of Great Understanding.
For their welfare do I visit men in all corners of
the earth.
At the command of the Mother I move, up and
down, East and West, showering the rays of
Freedom upon all;
The Mother is the Circle, I am but a curve;
The Mother is the Whole, I am but a part;
The Mother is the Opening Lotus, I am but a
single petal;
The Mother is the Ocean of Honey, I am but a
thirsty bee.
Men call me Lord of the Sky and Father of the
Heavens. They know naught who speak
thus.
I am the Space and its all-infilling Light and the
sight in Man’s eyes which sees them both;
I am the Sense whereby Man knows the Quarters;
I dwell in peace, encompassing all these living
orbs of light;
I know the secret of the Primal Song; the gods
are all the offspring of a Song, by them unheard;
I keep the record of men’s thoughts in my infinite
House of Sky;
From æon to æon I hold up the Mirror of Thought
to each man’s mind, to lead him across the
shoreless Sea of Mirage;
Yet I do but the bidding of the Mother of Eternal
Power;
I am in all hearts, save only those where Love is
not.
The Being rises up through the open roof, and the guests hear his voice dying away in the far-off sky. The vault of the Hall closes. The southern door opens. A Being enters. They hear his voice.
Voice in the Air:
By the will of the Mother I am the Lord of the
Air;
I reign over all who breathe;
I carry sweet fragrance from ocean to ocean;
My song is heard in the mountain forest, but
men hear not my music in the clouds;
My home is near to the Lord of the Heart;
I am the Lord of Life’s Brother and Playmate;
I walk with Man from the door of Birth to the
door of Death; waking and sleeping, by day
and by night, I watch over him;
I sweep from Pole to Pole and none can withstand
my power;
I am the Friend of the Flowers—from one to
another I bear sweet messages of love;
This all I do at the command of the Mother of
Life.
There stands the Mother tenderly smiling, filling
with sweetness the Quarters of the Heavens.
Yea, like a spreading mountain pine She
stands in the soft autumn twilight, and it
pleases Her that I play upon my reed for
the comfort of all creatures that breathe.
The light dies out, leaving the Hall in darkness. After a while a kind of murky earth-light diffuses itself over the lower part of the Hall. The guests hear the sound of a mighty crying, like the wailing of a sacked city in the far distance. A voice, broken by sighs and groans, speaks from below.
Voice: