In the following narrative, Lucifer is not Satan, King of Evil, who in the beginning led the rebels from Heaven, establishing the underworld. Lucifer is here taken as a character appearing much later, the first singing creature weary of established ways in music, moved with the lust of wandering. He finds the open road between the stars too lonely. He wanders to the kingdom of Satan, there to sing a song that so moves demons and angels that he is, at its climax, momentary emperor of Hell and Heaven, and the flame kindled of the tears of the demons devastates the golden streets. Therefore it is best for the established order of things that this wanderer shall be cursed with eternal silence and death. But since then there has been music in every temptation, in every demon voice. Along with a set of verses called _The Heroes of Time_, and another _The Tree of Laughing Bells_, I exchanged _The Last Song of Lucifer_ for a night’s lodging in New Jersey, Pennsylvania and Ohio, as narrated in _A Handy Guide for Beggars_. The fourteenth chapter of Isaiah contains these words on Lucifer: “Thy pomp is brought down to the grave, and the noise of thy viols: the worm is spread under thee and the worms cover thee. “How art thou fallen from Heaven, O Lucifer, son of the morning. How art thou cut down to the ground, which didst weaken the nations. “For thou hast said in thine heart, I will ascend into Heaven, I will exalt my throne above the stars of God.... “All the kings of the nations, even all of them, lie in glory, every one in his own house. “But thou art cast out of thy grave like an abominable branch, and as the raiment of those that are slain, thrust through with a sword, that go down to the stones of the pit; as a carcass trodden under feet. “Thou shalt not be joined to them in burial, because thou hast destroyed thy land.” THE LAST SONG OF LUCIFER _To Be Read Like a Meditation_ [Sidenote: _Lucifer dreams of his fate and then forgets the dream._] When Lucifer was undefiled, When Lucifer was young, When only angel-music Fell from his glorious tongue, Dreaming in his innocence Beneath God’s golden trees By genius pure his fancy fell-- By sweet divine disease-- To a wilderness of sorrows dim Beneath the ether seas. That father of radiant harmony, Of music transcendently bright-- Truest to art since heaven began, Wrapped in royal, melodious light-- That beautiful light-bearer, lofty and loyal Dreamed bitter dreams of enigma and night. But soon the singer woke and stood And tuned his harp to sing anew And scorned the dreams (as well he should) For only to the evil crew Are dreams of dread and evil true, Remembered well, or understood. [Sidenote: _The dream is fulfilled._]