The London Mercury, Vol. I, Nos. 1-6, November 1919 to April 1920 — John Shaqi
The London Mercury, Vol. I, Nos. 1-6, November 1919 to April 1920Various
General
The London Mercury, Vol. I, Nos. 1-6, November 1919 to April 1920
Various
English literature -- Periodicals; London (England) -- Periodicals
While yet afar off he was puzzled beholding a mountain range arisen in
the wilderness. As he drew nearer he recognised it for the Sphinx. If
during his thirty years' wanderings she had appeared to increase in
size, to what dimensions had she not attained during his brief absence!
The vapours of the desert, rising about her, had collected upon her
shoulders in a strata of billowy cloud, and her head, unimaginably
exalted, had now reached such an altitude that the features were almost
indistinguishable in the blaze of the sun.
Night had fallen by the time that he stood within the canyon of her
breasts. For a little he rested his head upon the rock. A great
weariness descended upon him. Physical infirmity, the inevitable sequel
of all he had suffered in body and in soul, now made him its prey. His
mind and spirit, however, remained keen and unquenchable as ever. He
wrapped himself in his cloak and lay down. At midnight he awoke. For
the first time the Sphinx, speaking in a voice of more than mortal
tenderness, had made utterance without being addressed, "Art thou
returned, my lover?"
"Thou seest me. All I love I have given thee."
"Few have bestowed upon me so much as thou. Fewer still have arrived
where thou hast arrived, while yet possessing the eye not wholly dimmed
and the tongue not altogether palsied. One thing, however, thou hast
kept from me--the seal that is on thy heart."
"Ah, Sphinx," replied Es-siddeeh, "that I cannot give; it is part of
myself. Nor would I--for it was that which first brought me hither to
scan thy face and to read thy riddle."
"I am a jealous lover."
"I know it. Yet what care I? Thy jealousy is a measure of my reward;
for though I have discovered thy secret in general, yet it is a secret
which no man perhaps will ever fathom in all particulars. Happy the
hero who attains as far as I, happier yet he who can gaze unwinkingly
upon thee as I do now, and hourly fathom something further!"
"I am a jealous lover. Thou hast not much longer to gaze."
"No matter. Eyes do not perish with me, and for myself I am rewarded."
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