Regina, Regina Pigmeorum, Veni - Page 2

creatures then came out of the cave,
and drew themselves up, if I remember rightly, in four bands. One of
these bands carried quicken boughs in their hands, and another had
necklaces made apparently of serpents' scales, but their dress I cannot
remember, for I was quite absorbed in that gleaming woman. I asked her
to tell the seer whether these caves were the greatest faery haunts in
the neighbourhood. Her lips moved, but the answer was inaudible. I bade
the seer lay her hand upon the breast of the queen, and after that she
heard every word quite distinctly. No, this was not the greatest faery
haunt, for there was a greater one a little further ahead. I then asked
her whether it was true that she and her people carried away mortals,
and if so, whether they put another soul in the place of the one they
had taken? "We change the bodies," was her answer. "Are any of you ever
born into mortal life?" "Yes." "Do I know any who were among your
people before birth?" "You do." "Who are they?" "It would not be lawful
for you to know." I then asked whether she and her people were not
"dramatizations of our moods"? "She does not understand," said my
friend, "but says that her people are much like human beings, and do
most of the things human beings do." I asked her other questions, as to
her nature, and her purpose in the universe, but only seemed to puzzle
her. At last she appeared to lose patience, for she wrote this message
for me upon the sands--the sands of vision, not the grating sands under
our feet--"Be careful, and do not seek to know too much about us."
Seeing that I had offended her, I thanked her for what she had shown
and told, and let her depart again into her cave. In a little while the
young girl awoke out of her trance, and felt again the cold wind of the
world, and began to shiver.

I tell these things as accurately as I can, and with no theories to
blur the history. Theories are poor things at the best, and the bulk of
mine have perished long ago. I love better than any theory the sound of
the Gate of Ivory, turning upon its hinges, and hold that he alone who
has passed the rose-strewn threshold can catch the far glimmer of the
Gate of Horn. It were perhaps well for us all if we would but raise the
cry Lilly the astrologer raised in Windsor Forest, "Regina, Regina
Pigmeorum, Veni," and remember with him, that God visiteth His children
in dreams. Tall, glimmering queen, come near, and let me see again the
shadowy blossom of thy dim hair.