Story and Song of Black Roderick | Page 9

of pearls across our path, and looketh upon us from the shade; when the dance is gayest he creepeth to spring. Maybe she hath reached for the pearls or hath danced into his net."
And so the fly sang of the watcher in the wood, and his song I shall sing thee, lest thou grow weary of my prose:
_Deep in the wood's recesses cool I see the fairy dancers glide, In cloth of gold, in gown of green, My lord and lady side by side._
_But who has hung from leaf to leaf, From flower to flower, a silken twine, A cloud of gray that holds the dew In globes of clear enchanted wine,_
_Or stretches far from branch to branch, From thorn to thorn, in diamond rain? Who caught the cup of crystal wine And hung so fair the shining chain?_
_'Tis death the spider, in his net, Who lures the dancers as they glide, In cloth of gold, in gown of green, My lord and lady side by side._
But a dragon-fly rattling his armor said, without heed of the singer, "She is dead," for when she came among the heather the joyous spirit of the mountain met her and blew upon her hair and eyes. He kissed her worn cheek that he had known so fair, and the soft rain of his sorrow fell to see the pity of her brow. She passed all stiff and cold; she did not hear nor understand.
"Wind," quoth she, "blow not so fierce."
"She is not dead," saith the red weasel; "she hath been to the great city."
Now, when the young bride raised her white face from her hands and looked about her, she could neither hear the speaking of the birds nor see the beauty of the wild flowers, yet in her heart she had a memory of both. Turning to the little flying things that came about her with soft, beating wings, she said:
"Once ye spake to me, and could give comfort with your counsel and love. Now ye are lost in the voices of the city that ring forever in my ears."
Gazing upon the flowers, she said:
"Ye, too, your beauty hath faded. The gaudy flowers of the city have flashed their color in my eyes, so ye I cannot see or understand."
Then she rose to her feet, though she scarce could stand, and, stretching her arms towards the great purple hills that surrounded her father's far home, she said towards it:
"Why didst thou call me back since thou hast let me go from the sight of the heights that would have been always a prayer to uplift my soul? Ahone! that thy voice was loud enough to follow and give me unrest, that whispered always of my father's house and the valley of my home. So must I come each eve upon this hill to look upon it from my loneliness.
"Unloved am I, and unwished for, by him whom I have wedded. So my heart dieth within my breast, and my soul trembleth on the brink of my grave.
"Here upon the mountains, unprayed for and uncoffined, shall my body lie, for thy voice hath called me forth.
"Here my black sins shall see and pursue me even to destruction; but in the city I could have escaped with the crowding souls that confuse Death to count."
Then, as a remembrance of her sins came heavy upon her, she gave a loud cry and covered her face with her hands.
So she stood without help upon the mountains, and because she was blind with the city dust and deafened with its cries, she stood alone. The pitying wild flowers blew their fragrance to her eyes, but they would not open; the gentle birds spoke comforting whispers to her ears, but she could not hear; the great hills held their arms about her and breathed their peace upon her brow. But this she did not know, and so stood alone to face Death.
First turned she her face to where her father's castle stood on a far hill, and again turned she to see the white towers where she had lived and loved so vainly. And when her eyes met the glisten of the walls, her heart broke with a little sigh, and she fell upon the ground. And she laid her weary body down beside the waters of the mountain lake. Her head with its loosened hair lay in the waters, so her lips, covered by the murmuring ripples, breathed a prayer as she died for her passing soul. And the little stream that ran from the lake down the hill-side carried the prayer upon its breast as thou hast been told.
Now, when the ghost of the little bride stood upright beside her fallen body, she was sore afraid, and trembled much to leave the habitation she had known