out of the lake and over Sidono again, and sunset behind the valley,
and high over lake and garden the stars that know not cities. There
Zornadhu lives in his garden of poppies with Sidono standing between
him and the whole world of men; and when the wind blowing athwart the
valley sways the heads of the tall poppies against the Temple wall, the
old prophet says: "The flowers are all praying, and lo! they be nearer
to the gods than men."

But the heralds of the King coming after many days of travel to Sidono
perceived the garden valley. By the lake they saw the poppy garden
gleaming round and small like a sunrise over water on a misty morning
seen by some shepherd from the hills. And descending the bare mountain
for three days they came to the gaunt pines, and ever between the tall
trunks came the glare of the poppies that shone from the garden valley.
For a whole day they travelled through the pines. That night a cold
wind came up the garden valley crying against the poppies. Low in his
Temple, with a song of exceeding grief, Zornadhu in the morning made a
dirge for the passing of poppies, because in the night time there had
fallen petals that might not return or ever come again into the garden
valley. Outside the Temple on the path of ocean shells the heralds
halted, and read the names and honours of the King; and from the Temple
came the voice of Zornadhu still singing his lament. But they took him
from his garden because of the King's command, and down his gleaming
path of ocean shells and away up Sidono, and left the Temple empty with
none to lament when silken poppies died. And the will of the wind of
the autumn was wrought upon the poppies, and the heads of the poppies
that rose from the earth went down to the earth again, as the plume of
a warrior smitten in a heathen fight far away, where there are none to
lament him. Thus out of his land of flowers went Zornadhu and came
perforce into the lands of men, and saw cities, and in the city's midst