Arcturus lifted high his horn
And blew a mighty blast.
The curtain of the night was torn
To show the protoplast
Transfigured on the finer face
Of that far prehistoric race--
We, clumsy, call Lemurian!
A city lifted high
Its towered domes of daring man
Beneath a tropic sky,
With gates of gold that gleamed and shone
Brighter than portaled Babylon.
Men were as gods upon the earth,
The women were most fair;
Music was speech; a holy birth
Of art was cradled there--
For dreams took shape in pure jacinth,
Seraphic brows upon the plinth.
Reed instruments for dance and song;
Brave horns beneath the blue;
The sistrum and the thunder-gong;
The pipe and tabour, too;
And all the craft of minstrelsy:
Harp, sackbut, cymbal, psaltery,
Were fashioned. Then was genius stirred
To pre-Homeric lines,
And drama grew. On earth was heard
Praise of the fruitful vines,
Oil of the olive, barley-gold,
Leaping of lambs within the fold.
Told was the story of the stars,
And thine, Aldebaran,
When Jupiter was not, nor Mars;
When every shepherd-clan
Pointed and named the olden spheres
While Rome was in the womb of years.
V
Altair in Aquila stood forth
With flaming evil brow,
Looked from his tower to the north
And made an awful vow:
"I will destroy yon golden gates--
Hither to me, O shrouded Fates!
Hither to me and hide the sun,
Darken the noisy noon,
Snuff out the planets one by one,
Unleash the hot simoon;
Destroy the race Lemurian!"
And they obeyed, Aldebaran.
Thunder!
A woman by the well
Looked up wide-eyed and fell;
A shepherd leading forth his sheep,
Gasped, clutched his throat and found eternal sleep;
Ceased in the temple, horn and holy drum,
And all the vested choristers were dumb!
Rain as of fire!
The shivering of earth;
Dead is the baby at its birth--
With horror in her great dark eyes,
The new-made mother lifeless lies;
Two lovers in the spell of their first kiss
And whispered word, the dark abyss
Engulfs forever!
Night! Endless night!
There are no towers, temples, domes--
No palaces, no pillared homes;
And all that stately company
Are buried in a boiling sea!
Alas, for these, Aldebaran!
And woe to Altair and his hate!
Gone is the race Lemurian;
I weep, O Star, to sing their fate!