Page:The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 17.djvu/20

12 In trains of vapor, through the empty air.

Meantime the astonished builder, dispossessed,

Stands 'mid the drifting rack. A brief despair

Seizes him; but the wand is in his hand,

And soon he turns him to his task again.

"Behold," said the fair being at my side,

"How one has made himself a diadem

Out of the bright skirts of a cloud that lay

Steeped in the golden sunshine, and has bound

The bauble on his forehead! See, again,

How from these vapors he calls up a host

With arms and banners! A great multitude

Gather and bow before him with bare heads.

To the four winds his messengers go forth,

And bring him back earth's homage. From the ground

Another calls a wingèd image, such

As poets give to Fame, who, to her mouth

Putting a silver trumpet, blows abroad

A loud, harmonious summons to the world,

And all the listening nations shout his name.

Another yet, apart from all the rest,

Casting a fearful glance from side to side,

Touches the ground by stealth. Beneath his wand

A glittering pile grows up, ingots and bars

Of massive gold, and coins on which earth's kings

Have stamped their symbols." As these words were said,

The north wind blew again across the vale,

And, lo! the beamy crown flew off in mist;

The host of armèd men became a scud

Torn by the angry blast; the form of Fame

Tossed its long arms in air, and rode the wind,

A jagged cloud; the glittering pile of gold

Grew pale and flowed in a gray reek away.

Then there were sobs and tears from those whose work

The wind had scattered: some had flung themselves

Upon the ground in grief; and some stood fixed

In blank bewilderment; and some looked on

Unmoved, as at a pageant of the stage

Suddenly hidden by the curtain's fall.

"Take thou this wand," my bright companion said.

I took it from her hand, and with it touched

The knolls of snow-white mist, and they grew green

With soft, thick herbage. At another touch,

A brook leaped forth, and dashed and sparkled by;

And shady walks through shrubberies cool and close

Wandered; and where, upon the open grounds,

The peaceful sunshine lay, a vineyard nursed

Its pouting clusters; and from boughs that drooped

Beneath their load an orchard shed its fruit;

And gardens, set with many a pleasant herb

And many a glorious flower, made sweet the air.