Queen Moo's Talisman: The Fall of the Maya Empire

								

“Familiar ’tis, there’s something I would trace.”


As Maya chief reborn, men of the soil
Hailed him, and led by him would patient toil
In forest depths, ’mid desert mansions old
And temples drear—their history to unfold.


Within a white stone urn in ancient tomb,
Charred heart and talisman lay in the gloom.
To her he gave the gem,—“Now take thine own,
I pray; henceforth it must be thine alone.”


In dancing flame the mortal dust from urn
Was thrown. “A form ascends from what doth burn!”
The natives loud exclaimed, “A princely shade
That into nothingness doth quickly fade.”


When evening came, and all from work reposed,
They told the white man why the things inclosed
Were found by him: “Thou art returned once more
From long enchanted sleep; wast here before.”
To this, both earnestly responded—“Nay,”
But nothing changed; the men thought their own way.
------------------------------------------------------------------------

  II.

  Fantastic thought cut loose from reason cool
Are dreams wherein the wisest play the fool.
Can dreams be memories? Are some portents?
Who knows? His ignorance man still laments.


The woman dreamed among the Ruins gray,
Where moon shines in at night and sun by day
On crumbling floors where powdered bones thick lie
And glistening serpents glide with gleaming eye.


Now as she seemed to roam in palace drear,
A man in rich and strange attire drew near,
Bemoaning thus: “May every wind and leaf
Re-echo now my wail of hopeless grief!
In mercy shine upon my endless woe,
Great Sun! from whom all life and light outflow.


Here crouches Aac, alone from age to age—
Absorb me now, my wretchedness assuage!
Remorse, to thee I said, ‘Return no more’—
Thou shalt not stay to goad me as before!
O Light Eternal! bid this mem’ry die
While penitent upon the ground I lie.
Tho’ long the years of anguish I have spent,
The worm gnaws on as if ’twould ne’er relent.”
He prayed and wept. Response came from above—
A woman’s voice replied with pitying love.


Up started he—“Hush! hush! thou knowest not,
But I know who thou art. O bitter lot!
To jealous frenzy I became a slave
And vilely slew my brother true and brave,
Thus casting o’er my sister’s life a blight.
Still mad with rage and lost to sense of right,
I crushed my elder brother in my wrath;
Tho’ Pontiff he, I swept him from my path.”


“My vicious mood led many where they fell;
I lied to them that they might serve me well.
No fiery couch was lit for heroes slain;
Now I could crawl o’er moldering bones, and fain
Would lick their dust—so low my haughty head—
I, lord of all! for whom their blood was shed.
A tyrant harsh, imbittered I became;
Nor could my soul’s rebuke awaken shame.


O Mother! drop thy tears; accurst for aye