of a holy hill, no slaves wrought the City of Marvel, but artists
toiling at the work they loved. They took no pattern from the houses
of men, but each man wrought what his inner eye had seen and carved
in marble the visions of his dream. All over the roof of one of the
palace chambers winged lions flit like bats, the size of every one
is the size of the lions of God, and the wings are larger than any
wing created; they are one above the other more than a man can
number, they are all carven out of one block of marble, the chamber
itself is hollowed from it, and it is borne aloft upon the carven
branches of a grove of clustered tree-ferns wrought by the hand of
some jungle mason that loved the tall fern well. Over the River of
Myth, which is one with the Waters of Fable, go bridges, fashioned
like the wisteria tree and like the drooping laburnum, and a hundred
others of wonderful devices, the desire of the souls of masons a
long while dead. Oh! very beautiful is white Babbulkund, very
beautiful she is, but proud; and the Lord the God of my people hath
seen her in her pride, and looking towards her hath seen the prayers
of Nehemoth going up to the abomination Annolith and all the people
following after Voth. She is very beautiful, Babbulkund; alas that
I may not bless her. I could live always on one of her inner
terraces looking on the mysterious jungle in her midst and the
heavenward faces of the orchids that, clambering from the darkness,
behold the sun. I could love Babbulkund with a great love, yet am I
the servant of the Lord the God of my people, and the King hath
sinned unto the abomination Annolith, and the people lust
exceedingly for Voth. Alas for thee, Babbulkund, alas that I may not
even now turn back, for tomorrow I must prophesy against thee and
cry out against thee, Babbulkund. But ye travellers that have
entreated me hospitably, rise and pass on with your camels, for I
can tarry no longer, and I go to do the work on Babbulkund of the