| |
| WHAT phantom is this that appears | |
| Through the purple mists of the years, | |
| Itself but a mist like these? | |
| A woman of cloud and of fire; | |
| It is she; it is Helen of Tyre, | 5 |
| The town in the midst of the seas. | |
| |
| O Tyre! in thy crowded streets | |
| The phantom appears and retreats, | |
| And the Israelites that sell | |
| Thy lilies and lions of brass, | 10 |
| Look up as they see her pass, | |
| And murmur “Jezebel!” | |
| |
| Then another phantom is seen | |
| At her side, in a gray gabardine, | |
| With beard that floats to his waist; | 15 |
| It is Simon Magus, the Seer; | |
| He speaks, and she pauses to hear | |
| The words he utters in haste. | |
| |
| He says: “From this evil fame, | |
| From this life of sorrow and shame, | 20 |
| I will lift thee and make thee mine; | |
| Thou hast been Queen Candace, | |
| And Helen of Troy, and shalt be | |
| The Intelligence Divine!” | |
| |
| Oh, sweet as the breath of morn, | 25 |
| To the fallen and forlorn | |
| Are whispered words of praise; | |
| For the famished heart believes | |
| The falsehood that tempts and deceives, | |
| And the promise that betrays. | 30 |
| |
| So she follows from land to land | |
| The wizard’s beckoning hand, | |
| As a leaf is blown by the gust, | |
| Till she vanishes into night. | |
| O reader, stoop down and write | 35 |
| With thy finger in the dust. | |
| |
| O town in the midst of the seas, | |
| With thy rafts of cedar trees, | |
| Thy merchandise and thy ships, | |
| Thou, too, art become as naught, | 40 |
| A phantom, a shadow, a thought, | |
| A name upon men’s lips. | |
| |
