“Nor now, too late for these gray hairs,” cried Mohi, with devotion. “Alma, thy breath is on my soul. I see bright light.” “No more a demigod,” cried Media, “but a subject to our common chief. No more shall dismal cries be heard from Odo’s groves. Alma, I am thine.” With swimming eyes the old man kneeled; and round him grouped king, sage, gray hairs, and youth. There, as they kneeled, and as the old man blessed them, the setting sun burst forth from mists, gilded the island round about, shed rays upon their heads, and went down in a glory—all the East radiant with red burnings, like an altar-fire. CHAPTER LXXXIV. Babbalanja Relates To Them A Vision Leaving Babbalanja in the old man’s bower, deep in meditation; thoughtfully we strolled along the beach, inspiring the musky, midnight air; the tropical stars glistening in heaven, like drops of dew among violets. The waves were phosphorescent, and laved the beach with a fire that cooled it. Returning, we espied Babbalanja advancing in his snow-white mantle. The fiery tide was ebbing; and in the soft, moist sand, at every step, he left a lustrous foot-print. “Sweet friends! this isle is full of mysteries,” he said. “I have dreamed of wondrous things. After I had laid me down, thought pressed hard upon me. By my eyes passed pageant visions. I started at a low, strange melody, deep in my inmost soul. At last, methought my eyes were fixed on heaven; and there, I saw a shining spot, unlike a star. Thwarting the sky, it grew, and grew, descending; till bright wings were visible: between them, a pensive face angelic, downward beaming; and, for one golden moment, gauze-vailed in spangled Berenice’s Locks. “Then, as white flame from yellow, out from that starry cluster it emerged; and brushed the astral Crosses, Crowns, and Cups. And as in violet, tropic seas, ships leave a radiant-white, and fire-fly wake; so, in long extension tapering, behind the vision, gleamed another Milky-Way. “Strange throbbings seized me; my soul tossed on its own tides. But soon the inward harmony bounded in exulting choral strains. I heard a feathery rush; and straight beheld a form, traced all over with veins of vivid light. The vision undulated round me. “‘Oh! Spirit!! angel! god! whate’er thou art,’—I cried, ‘leave me; I am but man.’ “Then, I heard a low, sad sound, no voice. It said, or breathed upon me,—‘Thou hast proved the grace of Alma: tell me what thou’st learned.’ “Silent replied my soul, for voice was gone,—‘This have I learned, oh! spirit!—In things mysterious, to seek no more; but rest content, with knowing naught but Love.’ “‘Blessed art thou for that: thrice blessed,’ then I heard, and since humility is thine, thou art one apt to learn. That which thy own wisdom could not find, thy ignorance confessed shall gain. Come, and see new things.’ “Once more it undulated round me; its lightning wings grew dim; nearer, nearer; till I felt a shock electric,—and nested ’neath its wing.