In the flash of the singing dawn,
At the door of the Great One,
The joy of his lodge knelt down,
Knelt down, and her hair in the sun
Shone like showering dust,
And her eyes were as eyes of the fawn.
And she cried to her lord,
“O my lord, O my life,
From the desert I come;
From the hills of the Dawn.”
And he lifted the curtain and said,
“Hast thou seen It, the Yellow Swan?”
And she lifted her head, and her eyes
Were as lights in the dark,
And her hands folded slow on her breast,
And her face was as one who has seen
The gods and the place where they dwell;
And she said, “Is it meet that I kneel,
That I kneel as I speak to my lord?”
And he answered her, “Nay, but to stand,
And to sit by my side;
But speak: thou has followed the trail,
Hast thou found It, the Yellow Swan?”
And she stood as a queen, and her voice
Was as one who hath seen the Hills,
The Hills of the Mighty Men,
And hath heard them cry in the night,
Hath heard them call in the dawn,
Hath seen It, the Yellow Swan.
And she said, “It is not for my lord”;
And she murmured, “I cannot tell;
But my lord must go as I went,
And my lord must come as I came,
And my lord shall be wise.”
And he cried in his wrath,
“What is thine, it is mine,
And thine eyes are my eyes,
Thou shalt speak of the Yellow Swan.”
But she answered him, “Nay, though I die.
I have lain in the nest of the Swan,
I have heard, I have known;
When thine eyes too have seen,
When thine ears too have heard,
Thou shalt do with me then as thou wilt.”
And he lifted his hand to strike,
And he straightened his spear to slay;
But a great light struck on his eyes,
And he heard the rushing of wings,
And his long spear fell from his hand,
And a terrible stillness came:
And when the spell passed from his eyes
He stood in his doorway alone,
And gone was the queen of his soul
And gone was the Yellow Swan.