Chapter VII: The Midnight Visitor

I sat and pondered in my room that night Until the towers and steeples, near and far, Like sentries of the sky, issued the hour Of midnight. Then I wrought magnetic force With waving hands; and set my swerveless will That Veera should approach me, and that none Should harm or see her as she passed the streets. At last I heard her footstep on the stair-- The patter of her feet as soft as rain, And then she turned the hinge and entered in. A long white wrapper made of satin, bound With lace of gold, and fastened at the throat With buttons of cut diamond, clad her form. A band of opals was around her neck-- A hundred little worlds with central fires. Her feet were naked, and her hair was down. Her large eyes, wide and staring, took no heed Of anything before them; thus she slept. I bade her sit beside me, and I placed The Bible on her knee, and laid her hand Upon the verse that names the tree of life. "Tell me," I said, "where may this tree be found." "The way is long," she answered me at last, "And I am worn and weary. I have tracked The shore of one long river, many a mile. The sun scorches like fire. I am athirst. I cannot find the tree; my search is done." "Look down the past, and find if any knew Where grows this tree, or how it might be found." Again her lips made answer: "One I see, Long dead, who bends above a written scroll, And therein makes strange characters, which hold Some hidden sense pertaining to this tree. In Milan, in the Ambrosian library there, I see this scroll to-night; 'tis worn with age."

"Now seek thy home again," I said, "sweet soul. Thou art as meek and pure as him whose hand First wrote God's words." So she arose, and passed Along the dark, deserted street, and I Followed her closely, till I saw her cross The threshold of her cottage; then I turned, And found my home, and calmly slept till dawn.