Wedding of the Sisters
Carried, they slowly went down from the roof in mournful procession.
⋅⋅⋅⋅⋅
Eve became night, and around the failing fires in the market
Shivering boys attended the voice of the teller of stories.
Clad in his chequered coat with bells on sleeves and on hem, he
Sang in the waning glare of the flame, which tinted his figure
Ghastly pale as a powdered buffoon. On a height in the desert,
Far from the market-place, far from the hundred gates of the city,
Rose in stupendous bulk the dusky temple of Isis.
Open it was, as ever, but guarded by staring-eyed sphinxes
And by the faith of mankind;—superstition and faith are the same, lo!—
Through the pylon and fore-court the way was open to all men.
Farther might none proceed, for there in the inner-most shrine sat,—
Hewn of gray-black granite that came from afar in the southland,
Rock-hard, mysteriously dark, and half concealed in her mantle,—
Shivering boys attended the voice of the teller of stories.
Clad in his chequered coat with bells on sleeves and on hem, he
Sang in the waning glare of the flame, which tinted his figure
Ghastly pale as a powdered buffoon. On a height in the desert,
Far from the market-place, far from the hundred gates of the city,
Rose in stupendous bulk the dusky temple of Isis.
Open it was, as ever, but guarded by staring-eyed sphinxes
And by the faith of mankind;—superstition and faith are the same, lo!—
Through the pylon and fore-court the way was open to all men.
Farther might none proceed, for there in the inner-most shrine sat,—
Hewn of gray-black granite that came from afar in the southland,
Rock-hard, mysteriously dark, and half concealed in her mantle,—
46
