So the cry flapped off as a wild goose flies, And the stars came out in the trembling skies, And ever the mystic glory grew In the garden of blue chrysanthemums, Till there came a rumble of distant drums; And the multitude suddenly turned and flew. ... A dead ape lay where their feet had been ... And we called for the yellow palankeen, And the flowers divided and let us through. The black-barred moon was large and low When we came to the Forest of Ancient Woe; And over our heads the stars were bright. But through the forest the path we travelled Its phosphorescent aisle unravelled In one thin ribbon of dwindling light: And twice and thrice on the fainting track We paused to listen. The moon grew black, But the coolies’ faces glimmered white, As the wild woods echoed in dreadful chorus A laugh that came horribly hopping o’er us Like monstrous frogs thro’ the murky night. Then the tall thin man as we swung along Sang us an old enchanted song That lightened our hearts of their fearful load. But, e’en as the moonlit air grew sweet, We heard the pad of stealthy feet Dogging us down the thin white road; And the song grew weary again and harsh, And the black trees dripped like the fringe of a marsh, And a laugh crept out like a shadowy toad; And we knew it was neither ghoul nor djinn: _It was Creeping Sin! It was Creeping Sin!_ But we came to a bend, and the white moon glowed Like a gate at the end of the narrowing road Far away; and on either hand, As guards of a path to the heart’s desire, The strange tall blossoms of soft blue fire Stretched away thro’ that unknown land, League on league with their dwindling lane Down to the large low moon; and again There shimmered around us that mystical strain, In a tongue that it seemed we could understand. SONG _Hold by right and rule by fear_ _Till the slowly broadening sphere_ _Melting through the skies above_ _Merge into the sphere of love._ _Hold by might until you find_ _Might is powerless o’er the mind:_ _Hold by Truth until you see,_ _Though they bow before the wind,_ _Its towers can mock at liberty._ _Time, the seneschal, is blind;_ _Time is blind: and what are we?_ _Captives of Infinity,_ _Claiming through Truth’s prison bars_ _Kinship with the wandering stars._ O, who could tell the wild weird sights We saw in all the days and nights We travelled through those forests old. We saw the griffons on white cliffs, Among fantastic hieroglyphs, Guarding enormous heaps of gold: We saw the Ghastroi--curious men Who dwell, like tigers, in a den, And howl whene’er the moon is cold; They stripe themselves with red and black And ride upon the yellow Yak.