Go thrust it back into its place again?’
To such I answer, and, that doubt once mine,
I am assured that I do speak aright: 
’Sirs, the significance of this your doubt
Lies in the reason of it; ye do grudge
That these your lands should have another Lord;
Ye are not loyal, therefore ye would fain
Your King would bide afar.  But if ye looked
For countenance and favor when He came,
Knowing yourselves right worthy, would ye care,
With cautious reasoning, deep and hard, to prove
That He would never come, and would your wrath
Be hot against a prophet?  Nay, I wot
That as a flatterer you would look on him,—­
Full of sweet words thy mouth is:  if He come,—­
We think not that He will,—­but if He come,
Would it might be to-morrow, or to-night,
Because we look for praise.’”

Now, as he went,
The noontide heats came on, and he grew faint;
But while he sat below an almug-tree,
A slave approached with greeting.  “Master, hail!”
He answered, “Hail! what wilt thou?” Then she said,
“The palace of thy fathers standeth nigh.” 
“I know it,” quoth he; and she said again,
“The Elder, learning thou wouldst pass, hath sent
To fetch thee”; then he rose and followed her. 
So first they walked beneath a lofty roof
Of living bough and tendril, woven on high
To let no drop of sunshine through, and hung
With gold and purple fruitage, and the white
Thick cups of scented blossom.  Underneath,
Soft grew the sward and delicate, and flocks
Of egrets, ay, and many cranes, stood up. 
Fanning their wings, to agitate and cool
The noonday air, as men with heed and pains
Had taught them, marshalling and taming them
To bear the wind in, on their moving wings. 
So long time as a nimble slave would spend
In milking of her cow, they walked at ease;
Then reached the palace, all of forest trunks,
Brought whole, and set together, made.  Therein
Had dwelt old Adam, when his mighty sons
Had finished it, and up to Eden gate
Had journeyed for to fetch him.  “Here,” they said
“Mother and father, ye may dwell, and here
Forget the garden wholly.” 
                               So he came
Under the doorplace, and the women sat,
Each with her finger on her lips; but he,
Having been called, went on, until he reached
The jewelled settle, wrought with cunning work
Of gold and ivory, whereon they wont
To set the Elder.  All with sleekest skins,
That striped and spotted creatures of the wood
Had worn, the seat was covered, but thereon
The Elder was not; by the steps thereof,
Upon the floor, whereto his silver beard
Did reach, he sat, and he was in his trance. 
Upon the settle many doves were perched,
That set the air a going with their wings: 
These opposite, the world’s great shipwright stood
To wait the burden; and the Elder spake: 
“Will He forget me?  Would He might forget!