Soft stealing through the shade, and skirting swift
The walls of Paradise, through night's dark rift
Lilith fled far; nor stopped lest deadly snare
Or peril by the wayside lurked.
...
Pure as an angel's dream shone Paradise.
Blue mountains hemmed it round; and airy sighs
Of rippling waters haunted it. Dim glades,
And wayward paths o'erflecked with shimmering shades,
...
Wide through her realm she walked, and glad or lorn
She mused. So, loitering, it chanced one morn
When lone she sat upon a mountain height,
One sudden stood anear, whose dark eyes bright
...
Broideries and ancient stuffs that some queen
Wore; nor gems that warriors' hilts encrusted;
Nor fresh from heroes' brows the laurels green;
Nor bright sheaves by bards of eld entrusted
...
To that fair Elf-child other summers came;
But Lilith walked, heart-hungered, filled with shame,
Naught comforted. And in that shadow-land
She sorrowing bore, in after-time, a band
...
Give me the scorn of the stars and a peak defiant;
Wail of the pines and a wind with the shout of a giant;
Night and a trail unknown and a heart reliant.
Give me to live and love in the old, bold fashion;
A soldier's billet at night and a soldier's ration;
A heart that leaps to the fight with a soldier's passion.
