ALDEBARAN

The minstrel tuned the triple strings — His harp of many murmurings — Then on a mighty chord began A song of bright Aldebaran:

Aldebaran, Aldebaran, One night I saw thee rise Above the peaks of Ispahan, Red on those purple skies.

Thou wast a royal ruby stone Set in a diadem Of some great god upon his throne, Whose garment's ample hem

Was margined with the clustered spheres Beyond a myriad of years. Above thee soared the Pleiades, Beneath, Auriga flared;

His vast melodic harmonies Rigel with Algol shared: Space trembled to the minstrelsy Of Deneb and Alcyone.

Aldebaran, Aldebaran, Betelguese sheathed his sword, And in that cosmic cry began The music of his word;

He spoke in syllables so strong, Each sentence was an aeon long: “Thou art” — he thundered, “the first star To lead earth out of mist,

When man looked up and felt afar Urge of an ancient tryst Made ere God lit the morning sun To mark the length of day begun.

“Thou threshold of the Zodiac; Thou portal of the Rooms; Thou first step of the starry Track: Thou shuttle of the Looms

Where Fate weaves threads of purest gold To fashion God's wide garment-fold — “Hail!” — and: “All hail!” from every sphere That rolled across the void,

I heard, Aldebaran, with fear: Each clustered asteroid Flung back the tumult of that cry, Like trumpet-voices through the sky.

Then Vega rose and on her lyre Played tremulous vast chords, Singing the infinite desire Of those celestial lords

Who shouted when earth's loom was laid, And through the warp God's shuttle played; When through the loom of misted flame The threads of God began

To weave a world; before there came Adventuring of man Upon the Path of life to find Monitions of eternal Mind.

She sang of forest and of fell, Of mountain and of moor; Caves and the caveman's battle-yell; The song beside the door

Where women ground the meal and sung Rhymes in their rude primeval tongue. I saw the mammoth and the bear, Like moving mountains, run

In terror from the flint-head spear, Proving that man had won Lordship of earth; and I made prayer, Aldebaran, before thee there!

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.

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!

And for a while the court was still, Tense, waiting on the harpist's will, From lord and lady to the King. One spoke: “It was an evil thing!”

One: “Hush! He is about to sing.” The jester shook his golden bells, And laughed: “A pretty tale he tells Of Altair and Aldebaran;

Faith! Never since court-fools began Was heard the like.— Lemurian!” A bishop raised his mitred head: “It was the Flood, I think” — he said.

“Aye, even so” — replied a priest: “Was not that city in the east? Altair?— Apocalyptic Beast!” Then spake the King upon his throne:

“Never such harping have I known; It is a right majestic tale — How poetry and song prevail On sword and shield and burnished mail!”

Again the minstrel tuned the strings — His harp of many murmurings — Again on softer chord began The song of bright Aldebaran:

Aldebaran, Aldebaran, Last night I saw thee glow In Taurus — open like a fan — Above a world of snow.

The joyous bells were ringing wide Their plangent silver chime, Proclaiming: “It is Christmastide! Now is the time, the time,

The Holy Babe was brought to birth, And Lord Messias came to earth!” Wast thou not then that eastern Star The Magi did behold,

Who journeyed from a city far To offer gifts of gold — The Star of Jesu, leading them To little white-walled Bethlehem?

Aldebaran, Aldebaran, Across the crystal sky A shout of angel-song began: “Glory to God on High,

On earth be peace! Now is the morn In which Emmanuel is born!” They sang the end of every woe, The tale of every tear.

I saw a host of singers go Bravely against the fear That held men in the thongs of Fate Through aeons of the hell of Hate.

Before thy lance Altair went down, Lemuria arose Restored to temple, palace, crown, With gates that never close;

And all her shining company Renewed their art and minstrelsy. The babe was in his mother's arms, His face was like the Christ;

And that lost lover knew the charms Of her who kept the tryst; The woman filled her water jar, The shepherd led his sheep afar.

And then I knew, Aldebaran, Lemuria is one With all the domes of daring man That glitter to the sun;

That age by age one broad highway Leads up the host to fuller day. There shall no lost tall towers be, No idle aim of art;

No useless joy of minstrelsy, No ever-empty heart; No utter silencing of song, No comrade absent from the throng.

Through pain and trial of the tears, Lead up the host, O Star! Lead up, lead up, until the years Have glorified the scar

That burns upon the brow of man, Aldebaran, Aldebaran!