Evening star., 1932-01-24

comprehend the best-thought-of human
standards and they had too, a remark
ably roundabout and archaic way of
talking. It fitted In well enough with
moonlight; stilI, you could not always
talk in igurative style with any imagi-
nable woman whatever, day in and day
out, and even over your porridge ut
breakfast, with any real comfort.
1t Is known that after this night
Thomas Learmont went ON with the
course Of mis- living. Day in and day out
he adhered to the levelness Of his life
and to the practice Of x.s naIf- -nagics.
and he took soberly the quite acceptable
rewards which these magics earned to-
ward the discharge of his increasing
household expenses, now that two Of the
boys were at school. He prospered, in 50
far as reached any measurings which
were ever revealed to him, in a world
wherein mortal beings rule and order
matters, and wherein he lived as neither
the foremost nor the least of his neigh
bors. He, therefore, did not complain,
since a responsible householder could
perceive nothing to complain about In
the logical daytime.
But it is known also that the infirm
poet went by moonlight to place where
three roads met and that he made there
a lament for his severance from the
Queen of Faery.
Said Thomas Learmont: Il shall not
see you any more, passing among the
youthful people of your kingdom-that
unforgotten tWilit kingdom wherein all
were youthful and were more merry
hearted than are the wrangling burghers
and the broad-shouldered earls, or than
are the shining kings that prance past
me upon shining war horses, here in
earths sunlight. 1t is very troubling
sunlight My life is fire that dies in
this sunlight. The moments smolder, and
their warmth dwindles in gray spirals.
0 Queen, in whose fine realm there is
not any gray thing nor any sunlight"
Then Thomas Learmont said: II shall
not see you any more, passing among
the youthful people of your kingdom.
In the village street I regard the comely
and dear woman, but not you-not you
who were once more dear to me than
my lean heart remembers, not you whom
I found more comely than a gray brain
may quite believe. 1t is thin sorrow to
me that do not sorrow any longer when
the thought of you returns like faded
music, and awakens in me no anguish.
o Queen Of our young twilit realn1-for
it is not anguish, little pensively to be
hearing that music's lament over my
tinseled downfall into some local emf
nence and the respectful esteem Of my
fellow creatures"
A ND Thomas Learmont said alsos
"Once every dream was sword. My
dreams are not bright and keen any
longer. They waver in thin spirals, and
that thin thought of you, which is like
an old thin mNsic, wavers half unre-
garded through the ordered ways of my
living. Yet at dawn it conquers me, o
Queen IN the sharp gray panic of dawn.
Then an aging woman sleeps On, very
sturdily, at my lean side, but 1 may not
sleep because Of those little memories
which nibble too closely to my lean
heart. Then the dawn-wind whispers.
over and over again, to the Tilt of this
faded music, that I shall not see you
any more, passing among the youthful
people of your kingdom"
He spoke thus with deep emotion, but
he despatched no more magics in this
place since the first small magic he tried
there had been successful a thought
beyond his wishes. 1t had left him with
a fret-waking suspicion that perhaps
even now the unobstructed fern road
before him led back to Faery and to all
which he desired.
He did not attempt to follow that road.
He made his lament instead and the
dignified yet so delightfully."- simple
phrasing of it drew tears from his old
eyes, and it warmed his childish nature