Dreams [15]
The old, old, old tiredness was gone.
Presently there came a peasant boy down the path leading his ass; she had two large panniers fastened to her sides; and they went down the road before me.
I had never seen him before; but I should have liked to walk by him and to have held his hand--only, he would not have known why.
Alassio, Italy.
VIII. LIFE'S GIFTS.
I saw a woman sleeping. In her sleep she dreamt Life stood before her, and held in each hand a gift--in the one Love, in the other Freedom. And she said to the woman, "Choose!"
And the woman waited long: and she said, "Freedom!"
And Life said, "Thou hast well chosen. If thou hadst said, 'Love,' I would have given thee that thou didst ask for; and I would have gone from thee, and returned to thee no more. Now, the day will come when I shall return. In that day I shall bear both gifts in one hand."
I heard the woman laugh in her sleep.
London.
IX. THE ARTIST'S SECRET.
There was an artist once, and he painted a picture. Other artists had colours richer and rarer, and painted more notable pictures. He painted his with one colour, there was a wonderful red glow on it; and the people went up and down, saying, "We like the picture, we like the glow."
The other artists came and said, "Where does he get his colour from?" They asked him; and he smiled and said, "I cannot tell you"; and worked on with his head bent low.
And one went to the far East and bought costly pigments, and made a rare colour and painted, but after a time the picture faded. Another read in the old books, and made a colour rich and rare, but when he had put it on the picture it was dead.
But the artist painted on. Always the work got redder and redder, and the artist grew whiter and whiter. At last one day they found him dead before his picture, and they took him up to bury him. The other men looked about in all the pots and crucibles, but they found nothing they had not.
And when they undressed him to put his grave-clothes on him, they found above his left breast the mark of a wound--it was an old, old wound, that must have been there all his life, for the edges were old and hardened; but Death, who seals all things, had drawn the edges together, and closed it up.
And they buried him. And still the people went about saying, "Where did he find his colour from?"
And it came to pass that after a while the artist was forgotten--but the work lived.
St. Leonards-on-Sea.
X. "I THOUGHT I STOOD."
I thought I stood in Heaven before God's throne, and God asked me what I had come for. I said I had come to arraign my brother, Man.
God said, "What has he done?"
I said, "He has taken my sister, Woman, and has stricken her, and wounded her, and thrust her out into the streets; she lies there prostrate. His hands are red with blood. I am here to arraign him; that the kingdom be taken from him, because he is not worthy, and given unto me. My hands are pure."
I showed them.
God said, "Thy hands are pure.--Lift up thy robe."
I raised it; my feet were red, blood-red, as if I had trodden in wine.
God said, "How is this?"
I said, "Dear Lord, the streets on earth are full of mire. If I should walk straight on in them my outer robe might be bespotted, you see how white it is! Therefore I pick my way."
God said, "On what?"
I was silent, and I let my robe fall. I wrapped my mantle about my head. I went out softly. I was afraid that the angels would see me.
II.
Once more I stood at the gate of Heaven, I and another. We held fast by one another; we were very tired. We looked up at the great gates; the angels opened them, and we went in. The mud was on our garments. We walked across the marble floor, and up to the great throne. Then the angels divided us. Her, they set upon the top step, but me, upon the bottom; for, they said, "Last time this woman came here she left red foot- marks on the floor; we had to wash them out with our tears. Let her not go up."
Then she, with whom I came, looked back, and
Presently there came a peasant boy down the path leading his ass; she had two large panniers fastened to her sides; and they went down the road before me.
I had never seen him before; but I should have liked to walk by him and to have held his hand--only, he would not have known why.
Alassio, Italy.
VIII. LIFE'S GIFTS.
I saw a woman sleeping. In her sleep she dreamt Life stood before her, and held in each hand a gift--in the one Love, in the other Freedom. And she said to the woman, "Choose!"
And the woman waited long: and she said, "Freedom!"
And Life said, "Thou hast well chosen. If thou hadst said, 'Love,' I would have given thee that thou didst ask for; and I would have gone from thee, and returned to thee no more. Now, the day will come when I shall return. In that day I shall bear both gifts in one hand."
I heard the woman laugh in her sleep.
London.
IX. THE ARTIST'S SECRET.
There was an artist once, and he painted a picture. Other artists had colours richer and rarer, and painted more notable pictures. He painted his with one colour, there was a wonderful red glow on it; and the people went up and down, saying, "We like the picture, we like the glow."
The other artists came and said, "Where does he get his colour from?" They asked him; and he smiled and said, "I cannot tell you"; and worked on with his head bent low.
And one went to the far East and bought costly pigments, and made a rare colour and painted, but after a time the picture faded. Another read in the old books, and made a colour rich and rare, but when he had put it on the picture it was dead.
But the artist painted on. Always the work got redder and redder, and the artist grew whiter and whiter. At last one day they found him dead before his picture, and they took him up to bury him. The other men looked about in all the pots and crucibles, but they found nothing they had not.
And when they undressed him to put his grave-clothes on him, they found above his left breast the mark of a wound--it was an old, old wound, that must have been there all his life, for the edges were old and hardened; but Death, who seals all things, had drawn the edges together, and closed it up.
And they buried him. And still the people went about saying, "Where did he find his colour from?"
And it came to pass that after a while the artist was forgotten--but the work lived.
St. Leonards-on-Sea.
X. "I THOUGHT I STOOD."
I thought I stood in Heaven before God's throne, and God asked me what I had come for. I said I had come to arraign my brother, Man.
God said, "What has he done?"
I said, "He has taken my sister, Woman, and has stricken her, and wounded her, and thrust her out into the streets; she lies there prostrate. His hands are red with blood. I am here to arraign him; that the kingdom be taken from him, because he is not worthy, and given unto me. My hands are pure."
I showed them.
God said, "Thy hands are pure.--Lift up thy robe."
I raised it; my feet were red, blood-red, as if I had trodden in wine.
God said, "How is this?"
I said, "Dear Lord, the streets on earth are full of mire. If I should walk straight on in them my outer robe might be bespotted, you see how white it is! Therefore I pick my way."
God said, "On what?"
I was silent, and I let my robe fall. I wrapped my mantle about my head. I went out softly. I was afraid that the angels would see me.
II.
Once more I stood at the gate of Heaven, I and another. We held fast by one another; we were very tired. We looked up at the great gates; the angels opened them, and we went in. The mud was on our garments. We walked across the marble floor, and up to the great throne. Then the angels divided us. Her, they set upon the top step, but me, upon the bottom; for, they said, "Last time this woman came here she left red foot- marks on the floor; we had to wash them out with our tears. Let her not go up."
Then she, with whom I came, looked back, and