Читать книгу Collected Poems: Volume One - Alfred Noyes - Страница 30

The white moon dawned; the sunset died;

And stars were trembling when we spied

The rose-red temple of our dreams:

Its lamp-lit gardens glimmered cool

With many an onyx-paven pool,

Amid soft sounds of flowing streams;

Where star-shine shimmered through the white

Tall fountain-shafts of crystal light

In ever changing rainbow-gleams.

Priests in flowing yellow robes

Glided under rosy globes

Through the green pomegranate boughs

Moonbeams poured their coloured rain;

Roofs of sea-green porcelain

Jutted o'er the rose-red house;

Bells were hung beneath its eaves;

Every wind that stirred the leaves

Tinkled as tired water does.

The temple had a low broad base

Of black bright marble; all its face

Was marble bright in rosy bloom;

And where two sea-green pillars rose

Deep in the flower-soft eave-shadows

We saw, thro' richly sparkling gloom,

Wrought in marvellous years of old

With bulls and peacocks bossed in gold,

The doors of powdered lacquer loom.

Quietly then the tall thin man,

Holding his turquoise-tinted fan,

Alighted from the palanquin;

We followed: never painter dreamed

Of how that dark rich temple gleamed

With gules of jewelled gloom within;

And as we wondered near the door

A priest came o'er the polished floor

In sandals of soft serpent-skin;

His mitre shimmered bright and blue

With pigeon's breast-plumes. When he knew

Our quest he stroked his broad white chin,

And looked at us with slanting eyes

And smiled; then through his deep disguise

We knew him! It was Creeping Sin!

But cunningly he bowed his head

Down on his gilded breast and said

Come: and he led us through the dusk Of passages whose painted walls Gleamed with dark old festivals; Till where the gloom grew sweet with musk And incense, through a door of amber We came into a high-arched chamber.

There on a throne of jasper sat

A monstrous idol, black and fat;

Thick rose-oil dropped upon its head:

Drop by drop, heavy and sweet,

Trickled down to its ebon feet

Whereon the blood of goats was shed,

And smeared around its perfumed knees

In savage midnight mysteries.

It wore about its bulging waist

A belt of dark green bronze enchased

With big, soft, cloudy pearls; its wrists

Were clasped about with moony gems

Gathered from dead kings' diadems;

Its throat was ringed with amethysts,

And in its awful hand it held

A softly smouldering emerald.

Silkily murmured Creeping Sin,

"This is the stone you wished to win!"

"White Snake," replied the tall thin man,

"Show us the Ruby Stone, or I

Will slay thee with my hands." The sly

Long eyelids of the priest began

To slant aside; and then once more

He led us through the fragrant door.

And now along the passage walls

Were painted hideous animals,

With hooded eyes and cloven stings:

In the incense that like shadowy hair

Streamed over them they seemed to stir

Their craggy claws and crooked wings.

At last we saw strange moon-wreaths curl

Around a deep, soft porch of pearl.

O, what enchanter wove in dreams

That chapel wild with shadowy gleams

And prismy colours of the moon?

Shrined like a rainbow in a mist

Of flowers, the fretted amethyst

Arches rose to a mystic tune;

And never mortal art inlaid

Those cloudy floors of sea-soft jade.

There, in the midst, an idol rose

White as the silent starlit snows

On lonely Himalayan heights:

Over its head the spikenard spilled

Down to its feet, with myrrh distilled

In distant, odorous Indian nights:

It held before its ivory face

A flaming yellow chrysoprase.

O, silkily murmured Creeping Sin,

"This is the stone you wished to win."

But in his ear the tall thin man

Whispered with slow, strange lips—we knew Not what, but Creeping Sin went blue With fear; again his eyes began To slant aside; then through the porch He passed, and lit a tall, brown torch.

Down a corridor dark as death,

With beating hearts and bated breath

We hurried; far away we heard

A dreadful hissing, fierce as fire

When rain begins to quench a pyre;

And where the smoky torch-light flared

Strange vermin beat their bat-like wings,

And the wet walls dropped with slimy things.

And darker, darker, wound the way,

Beyond all gleams of night and day,

And still that hideous hissing grew

Louder and louder on our ears,

And tortured us with eyeless fears; Then suddenly the gloom turned blue,

And, in the wall, a rough rock cave

Gaped, like a phosphorescent grave.

And from the purple mist within

There came a wild tumultuous din

Of snakes that reared their heads and hissed

As if a witch's cauldron boiled;

All round the door great serpents coiled,

With eyes of glowing amethyst,

Whose fierce blue flames began to slide

Like shooting stars from side to side.

Ah! with a sickly gasping grin

And quivering eyelids, Creeping Sin

Stole to the cave; but, suddenly,

As through its glimmering mouth he passed,

The serpents flashed and gripped him fast:

He wriggled and gave one awful cry,

Then all at once the cave was cleared;

The snakes with their victim had disappeared.

And fearlessly the tall thin man

Opened his turquoise-tinted fan

And entered; and the mists grew bright,

And we saw that the cave was a diamond hall

Lit with lamps for a festival.

A myriad globes of coloured light

Went gliding deep in its massy sides,

Like the shimmering moons in the glassy tides

Where a sea-king's palace enchants the night.

Gliding and flowing, a glory and wonder,

Through each other, and over, and under,

The lucent orbs of green and gold,

Bright with sorrow or soft with sleep,

In music through the glimmering deep,

Over their secret axles rolled,

And circled by the murmuring spheres

We saw in a frame of frozen tears

A mirror that made the blood run cold.

For, when we came to it, we found

It imaged everything around

Except the face that gazed in it;

And where the mirrored face should be

A heart-shaped Ruby fierily

Smouldered; and round the frame was writ,

Mystery: Time and Tide shall pass, I am the Wisdom Looking-Glass.

This is the Ruby none can touch: Many have loved it overmuch; Its fathomless fires flutter and sigh, Being as images of the flame That shall make earth and heaven the same When the fire of the end reddens the sky, And the world consumes like a burning pall, Till where there is nothing, there is all.

So we looked up at the tall thin man

And we saw that his face grew sad and wan:

Tears were glistening in his eyes:

At last, with a breaking sob, he bent

His head upon his breast and went

Swiftly away! With dreadful cries

We rushed to the softly glimmering door

And stared at the hideous corridor.

But his robe was gone as a dream that flies:

Back to the glass in terror we came,

And stared at the writing round the frame.

We could not understand one word:

And suddenly we thought we heard

The hissing of the snakes again:

How could we front them all alone?

O, madly we clutched at the mirrored stone

And wished we were back on the flowery plain:

And swifter than thought and swift as fear

The whole world flashed, and behold we were there.

Yes; there was the port of Old Japan,

With its twisted patterns, white and wan,

Shining like a mottled fan

Spread by the blue sea, faint and far;

And far away we heard once more

A sound of singing on the shore,

Where boys in blue kimonos bore

Roses in a golden jar:

And we heard, where the cherry orchards blow,

The serpent-charmers fluting low,

And the song of the maidens of Miyako.

And at our feet unbroken lay

The glass that had whirled us thither away:

And in the grass, among the flowers

We sat and wished all sorts of things:

O, we were wealthier than kings!

We ruled the world for several hours!

And then, it seemed, we knew not why,

All the daisies began to die.

We wished them alive again; but soon

The trees all fled up towards the moon

Like peacocks through the sunlit air:

And the butterflies flapped into silver fish;

And each wish spoiled another wish;

Till we threw the glass down in despair;

For, getting whatever you want to get,

Is like drinking tea from a fishing net.

At last we thought we'd wish once more

That all should be as it was before;

And then we'd shatter the glass, if we could;

But just as the world grew right again,

We heard a wanderer out on the plain

Singing what none of us understood;

Yet we thought that the world grew thrice more sweet

And the meadows were blossoming under his feet.

And we felt a grand and beautiful fear,

For we knew that a marvellous thought drew near;

So we kept the glass for a little while:

And the skies grew deeper and twice as bright,

And the seas grew soft as a flower of light,

And the meadows rippled from stile to stile;

And memories danced in a musical throng

Thro' the blossom that scented the wonderful song.