Twilight Stories
Where the golden streets shine red at sunset in my father's town!
"For only in dreams I see the faces of the women there,
And fain would I hear them singing once, braiding their ropes of hair.
"Oh, I am thirsty, and long to drink of the river of Life, and I
Am fain to find my own country, where no man shall die."
Out of the light of the throne the king looked down: as in the spring
The green leaves burst from their dusky buds, so was hope in the eyes of the king.
"Lo," he said, "I will make thee great; I will make thee mighty in sway
Even as I; but the name of thy country speak, and the place and the way."
"Oh, the way to my country is ever north till you pass the mouth of hell,
Past the limbo of dreams and the desolate land where shadows dwell.
"And when you have reached the fount of wonder, you ford the waters wan
To the land of elves and the land of fairies, enchanted Masinderan."
The singer ceased; and the lyre in his hand snapped, as a cord, in twain;
And neither lyre nor singer was seen in the kingdom of Persia again.
And all the nobles gazed astounded; no man spoke a word
Till the old king said: "Call out my armies; bring me hither a sword!"
As a little torrent swollen by snows is turned to a terrible stream,
So the gathering voices of all his countries cried to the king in his dream.
Crying, "For thee, O our king, for thee we had freely and willingly died,
Warriors, martyrs, what thou wilt; not that our lives betide
The worth of a thought to the king, but rather because thy rod
Is over our heads as over thine Is the changeless will of God.
"Rather for this we beseech thee, O master, for thine own sake refrain
From the blasphemous madness of pride, from the fever of impious gain."
"You seek my death," the king thundered; "you cry, forbear to save
The life of a king too old to frolic; let him sleep in the grave.
"But I will live for all your treason; and, by my own right hand!
I will set out this day with you to conquer Fairyland."
Then all the nations paled aghast, for the battle to begin
Was a war with God, and a war with death, and they knew the thing was sin.
Sick at heart they gathered together, but none denounced the wrong,
For the will of God was unseen, unsaid, and the will of the king was strong.
So the air grew bright with spears, and the earth shook under the tread
Of the mighty horses harnessed for battle; the standards flaunted red.
And the wind was loud with the blare of trumpets, and every house was void
Of the strength and stay of the house, and the peace of the land destroyed.
And the growing corn was trodden under the weight of armed feet,
And every woman in Persia cursed the sound of a song too sweet,
Cursed the insensate longing for life in the heart of a 
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