"She raised her arm, bejewelled and small,
It lengthened,—stretched across the room,—
Put out the light on the opposite wall,
And then,—diminished in the gloom!
"My pulses stopped, my passion died;
The square, rose-scented chamber ran
To thrice our length, from side to side,
And yet her arm had bridged the span!
"I wrenched myself from her embrace,
And, heeding not her desperate cry
Fled from that strange, enchanted place
As deer before the Cheetah fly.
"Beneath the starlight, cool and clear,
I raced across the sands alone,
And realised in stricken fear
No mortal mistress I had known.
"My spirit told me, as I sped,
Some tortured soul, escaped from hell,
One of the lonely, loveless dead
Had risen and wooed me by the well.
"Ah, Best-Beloved, though Youth be sweet,
He leads us to strange depths and heights.
Now leave me; later we shall meet
For worship with the Circling Lights."
128
