"O my men, my men!
My life is an empty shell,
No one has heard my moan,
I sit in the dark alone."
Then of the gods they sang,--a moonlight song:
"Sleep, O soft little winds,
Restless whispering grass,
Reeds of the water-ways sway not,
Sleep, that the gods may pass.
"Deepen, you dreams of the sleepers,
Veil you, O fire of the moon.
Darken, you silver of stars,
Sleep, for the gods come soon.
"Sleep, for the gods who sleep not
Pass on the midnight's breath;
Mystical, magical, secret,
Sleep, for to wake is death."
And after singing came the dance; the brown
Lithe women decked with bright fantastic hues
Wavered into the circle of the light.
Kneeling, they wove their spells. As gracious flowers
Swayed by the winds of evening, they were blown
By breezes of desire. The eye was filled
With luxury of soft motion and the sound
Of soft monotonous chanting charmed the ear.
Then in their midst came Taka, and she stood,
Waiting the signal. Slow she raised her arms,
Slow as tho' ages hung upon her hands
Heavy with burdened love. The music hushed.
Deep in the mystery of her steady eyes
Lingered the secret of the world, and then
Laughter and light came dancing from her smile.
Her fingers fluttered on the harp of love,
And every chord uttered itself again
Within some dusky heart.
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