The bells above them were hanging, Whenever the earth-breath blew It made them go clanging, clanging, The vasty mountain through. But louder yet than the ringing Came the chant of the elfin choir, Till the mountain was mad with singing And dense with the forms of fire. The kings of the faery races Sat high on the thrones of might, And infinite years from their faces Looked out through eyes of light. And one in a diamond splendour Shone brightest of all that hour, More lofty and pure and tender, They called him the Flower of Power. The palace walls were glowing Like stars together drawn, And a fountain of air was flowing The primrose colour of dawn. "Ah, see!" said Aileen sighing, With a bend of her saddened head Where a mighty hero was lying, He looked like one who was dead. "He will wake," said their guide, "'tis but seeming, And, oh, what his eyes shall see I will know of only in dreaming Till I lie there still as he." They chanted the song of waking, They breathed on him with fire, Till the hero-spirit outbreaking, Shot radiant above the choir. Like a pillar of opal glory Lit through with many a gem-- "Why, look at him now," said Rory, "He has turned to a faery like them!" The elfin kings ascending Leaped up from the thrones of might, And one with another blending They vanished in air and light. The rill to its bed came splashing With rocks on the top of that: The children awoke with a flashing Of wonder, "What were we at?" They groped through the reeds and clover-- "What funny old markings: look here, They have scrawled the rocks all over: It's just where the door was: how queer!" --September 15, 1896 The Voice of the Wise They sat with hearts untroubled, The clear sky sparkled above, And an ancient wisdom bubbled From the lips of a youthful love. They read in a coloured history Of Egypt and of the Nile, And half it seemed a mystery, Familiar, half, the while. Till living out of the story Grew old Egyptian men, And a shadow looked forth Rory And said, "We meet again!" And over Aileen a maiden Looked back through the ages dim: She laughed, and her eyes were laden With an old-time love for him. In a mist came temples thronging With sphinxes seen in a row, And the rest of the day was a longing For their homes of long ago. "We'd go there if they'd let us," They said with wounded pride: "They never think when they pet us We are old like that inside." There was some one round them straying The whole of the long day through, Who seemed to say, "I am playing At hide-and-seek with you." And one thing after another Was whispered out of the air, How God was a big kind brother Whose home was in everywhere.