And there were in that roof seven moons set in a mighty circle, and lit
by the Earth-Current; and the circle was sixty miles across, so that all
that Country of Quiet was visible; yet to no great glare, but a sweet
and holy light; so that I did always feel in my heart that a man might
weep there, and be unashamed.
And in the midst of that silent Country, there was a great hill, and
upon the hill a vast Dome. And the Dome was full of a Light that might
be seen in all that Country, which was the Garden of Silence. And
beneath the Dome was the "Crack," and within it the glory of the
Earth-Current, from which all had life and light and safety. And in the
Dome, at the North, there was a gateway; and a narrow road went upward
to the gateway; and the Road was named The Last Road; and the Gateway
was named by no name, but known to all as The Gateway.
And there were in that mighty Country, long roadways, and hidden methods
to help travel; and constant temples of rest along the miles; and
groves; and the charm of water, falling. And everywhere the Statues of
Memory, and the Tablets of Memory; and the whole of that Great
Underground Country full of an echo of Eternity and of Memory and Love
and Greatness; so that to walk alone in that Land was to grow back to
the wonder and mystery of Childhood; and presently to go upwards again
to the Cities of the Mighty Pyramid, purified and sweetened of soul and
mind.
And in my boyhood, I have wandered oft a week of days in that Country of
Silence, and had my food with me, and slept quietly amid the memories;
and gone on again, wrapped about with the quiet of the Everlasting. And
the man-soul within would be drawn mightily to those places where the
Great Ones of the past Eternity of the World had their Memory named; but
there was that within me which ever drew me, in the ending, to the Hills
of the Babes; those little hills where might be heard amid the
lonesomeness of an utter quiet, a strange and wondrous echo, as of a
little child calling over the hills. But how this was I know not, save
by the sweet cunning of some dead Maker in the forgotten years.
And here, mayhaps by reason of this Voice of Pathos, were to be found
the countless Tokens of Memory to all the babes of the Mighty Pyramid,
through a thousand ages. And, odd whiles, would I come upon some
Mother, sitting there lonely, or mayhaps companied by others. And by
this little telling shall you know somewhat of the quietness and the
wonder and the holiness of that great Country hallowed to all Memory and
to Eternity and to our Dead.