They stayed, too, till o'er noise of wind, and bird, And falling flower, there rang a mighty shout As the Strong Man his steel-bound club upreared, And drave it 'gainst the hammered iron stout, Where 'neath his blows flew bolt and rivet out, Till shattered on the ground the great door lay, And into the guarded place bright poured the day. The Strong Man entered, but his fellow stayed, Leaning against a tree-trunk as they deemed. They faltered now, and yet all things being weighed Went on again; and thought they must have dreamed Of the old man, for now the sunlight streamed Full on the tree he had been leaning on, And him they saw not go, yet was he gone: Only a slim green lizard flitted there Amidst the dry leaves; him they noted nought, But trembling, through the doorway 'gan to peer, And still of strange and dreadful saw not aught, Only a garden fair beyond all thought. And there, 'twixt sun and shade, the Strong Man went On some long-sought-for end belike intent. They 'gan to follow down a narrow way Of green-sward that the lilies trembled o'er, And whereon thick the scattered rose-leaves lay; But a great wonder weighed upon them sore, And well they thought they should return no more, Yet scarce a pain that seemed; they looked to meet Before they died things strange and fair and sweet. So still to right and left the Strong Man thrust The blossomed boughs, and passed on steadily, As though his hardy heart he well did trust, Till in a while he gave a joyous cry, And hastened on, as though the end drew nigh; And women's voices then they deemed they heard, Mixed with a noise that made desire afeard. Yet through sweet scents and sounds on did they bear Their panting hearts, till the path ended now In a wide space of green, a streamlet clear From out a marble basin there did flow, And close by that a slim-trunked tree did grow, And on a bough low o'er the water cold There hung three apples of red-gleaming gold. About the tree, new risen e'en now to meet The shining presence of that mighty one, Three damsels stood, naked from head to feet Save for the glory of their hair, where sun And shadow flickered, while the wind did run Through the grey leaves o'erhead, and shook the grass Where nigh their feet the wandering bee did pass. But 'midst their delicate limbs and all around The tree-roots, gleaming blue black could they see The spires of a great serpent, that, enwound About the smooth bole, looked forth threateningly, With glittering eyes and raised crest, o'er the three Fair heads fresh crowned, and hissed above the speech Wherewith they murmured softly each to each.