Volume I Part 4 (1/2)
_There with a hat like a round white dish Upside down on each pig-tailed head, Jugglers offer you snakes and fish, Dreams and dragons and gingerbread; Beautiful books with marvellous pictures, Painted pirates and streaming gore, And everyone reads, without any strictures, Tales he remembers for evermore._
_There when the dim blue daylight lingers Listening, and the West grows holy, Singers crouch with their long white fingers Floating over the zithern slowly: Paper lamps with a peachy bloom Burn above on the dim blue bough, While the zitherns gild the gloom With curious music! I hear it now!_
_Now_: and at that mighty word Holding out his magic fan, Through the waving flowers appeared, Suddenly, the tall thin man: And we saw the crumpled dwarf Trying to hide behind the tree, But his knotted scarlet scarf Made him very plain to see.
Like a soft and smoky cloud Pa.s.sed the webby net away; While its owner squealing loud Down behind the pear-tree lay; For the tall thin man came near, And his words were dark and gruff, And he swung the dwarf in the air By his long and scraggy scruff.
There he kickled whimpering.
But our rescuer touched the box, Open with a sudden spring Clashed the four-and-twenty locks; Then he crammed the dwarf inside, And the locks all clattered tight: Four-and-twenty times he tried Whether they were fastened right.
Ah, he led us on our road, Showed us Wonder-Wander town; Then he fled: behind him flowed Once again the rose-pink gown: Down the long deserted street, All the windows winked like eyes, And our little trotting feet Echoed to the starry skies.
Low and long for evermore Where the Wonder-Wander sea Whispers to the wistful sh.o.r.e Purple songs of mystery, Down the shadowy quay we came-- Though it hides behind the hill You will find it just the same And the seamen singing still.
There we chose a s.h.i.+p of pearl, And her milky silken sail Seemed by magic to unfurl, Puffed before a fairy gale; s.h.i.+mmering o'er the purple deep, Out across the silvery bar, Softly as the wings of sleep Sailed we towards the morning star.
Over us the skies were dark, Yet we never needed light; Softly shone our tiny bark Gliding through the solemn night; Softly bright our moony gleam, Glimmered o'er the glistening waves, Like a cold sea-maiden's dream Globed in twilit ocean caves.
So all night our shallop pa.s.sed Many a haunt of old desire, Blurs of savage blossom ma.s.sed Red above a pirate-fire; Huts that gloomed and glanced among Fruitage dipping in the blue; Songs the sirens never sung, Sh.o.r.es Ulysses never knew.
All our fairy rigging shone Richly as a rainbow seen Where the moonlight floats upon Gossamers of gold and green: All the tiny spars were bright; Beaten gold the bowsprit was; But our pilot was the night, And our chart a looking-gla.s.s.
PART II
THE ARRIVAL
With rosy finger-tips the Dawn Drew back the silver veils, Till lilac s.h.i.+mmered into lawn Above the satin sails; And o'er the waters, white and wan, In tiny patterned state, We saw the streets of Old j.a.pan s.h.i.+ne, like a willow plate.
O, many a milk-white pigeon roams The purple cherry crops, The mottled miles of pearly domes, And blue paG.o.da tops, The river with its golden canes And dark piratic dhows, To where beyond the twisting vanes The burning mountain glows.
A snow-peak in the silver skies Beyond that magic world, We saw the great volcano rise With incense o'er it curled, Whose tiny thread of rose and blue Has risen since time began, Before the first enchanter knew The peak of Old j.a.pan.
n.o.body watched us quietly steer The pinnace to the painted pier, Except one pig-tailed mandarin, Who sat upon a chest of tea Pretending not to hear or see!...
His hands were very long and thin, His face was very broad and white; And O, it was a fearful sight To see him sit alone and grin!
His grin was very sleek and sly: Timidly we pa.s.sed him by.
He did not seem at all to care: So, thinking we were safely past, We ventured to look back at last.
O, dreadful blank!--_He was not there!_ He must have hid behind his chest: We did not stay to see the rest.
But, as in reckless haste we ran, We came upon the tall thin man, Who called to us and waved his fan, And offered us his palanquin: He said we must not go alone To seek the ruby wis.h.i.+ng-stone, Because the white-faced mandarin Would dog our steps for many a mile, And sit upon each purple stile Before we came to it, and smile And smile; his name was Creeping Sin.
He played with children's beating hearts, And stuck them full of poisoned darts And long green thorns that stabbed and stung: He'd watch until we tried to speak, Then thrust inside his pasty cheek His long, white, slimy tongue: And smile at everything we said; And sometimes pat us on the head, And say that we were very young: He was a cousin of the man Who said that there was no j.a.pan.
And night and day this Creeping Sin Would follow the path of the palanquin; Yet if we still were fain to touch The ruby, we must have no fear, Whatever we might see or hear, And the tall thin man would take us there; He did not fear that Sly One much, Except perhaps on a moonless night, Nor even then if the stars were bright.
So, in the yellow palankeen We swung along in state between Twinkling domes of gold and green Through the rich bazaar, Where the cross-legged merchants sat, Old and almond-eyed and fat, Each upon a gorgeous mat, Each in a cymar; Each in crimson samite breeches, Watching his barbaric riches.
Cherry blossom breathing sweet Whispered o'er the dim blue street Where with fierce uncertain feet Tawny pirates walk: All in belts and baggy blouses, Out of dreadful opium houses, Out of dens where Death carouses, Horribly they stalk; Girt with ataghan and dagger, Right across the road they swagger.
And where the cherry orchards blow, We saw the maids of Miyako, Swaying softly to and fro Through the dimness of the dance: Like sweet thoughts that s.h.i.+ne through dreams They glided, wreathing rosy gleams, With stately sounds of silken streams, And many a slim kohl-lidded glance; Then fluttered with tiny rose-bud feet To a soft _frou-frou_ and a rhythmic beat As the music s.h.i.+mmered, pursuit, retreat, ”Hands across, retire, advance!”