The Incarnation from Istar of Babylon

Thronged in Uranian mists, all the archtype spirits of heaven,
Gathered in slow-firing wrath against one of their natural number,
Watched her who, first of them all since Jehovah created their order,
Daring the Almighty ire, did forget her transcendence for man.
Wonder divine o'er the sorrow and sin of the earth-condemned races
Dwelt in the heart of the moon-daughter, now beyond ken of her kindred.
They who, betwixt the one Godhead, His logos, creation, and man,
Infinite, soulless, essential, divine, were highest ideas,
Perfect observance forever had kept of their order, till now,
Seemingly fearless in great disobedience, Istar, the moon-child,
Caught and had struck to her heart a great earth-flown vibration: so learned
All that her high-worshipped fellows knew not of mankind and of woe.
Fleeing the loud-rolling world with her new apperception, she sped
Far to the heart of the moon, where her father, the moon-god, received her.
Then, on her silence of wisdom and grief, rose a fast-winging plaint
Carried across vasty deeps by the loud-surging breath of the wind.
Host upon host, then, the infinite tide, the reflectors of being
Swept towards the refuge of Istar. Their voices, in anger uplifted,
Crashed in a thunderous whirlwind through space; and their far-flowing light
Gleaming and streaming in chaos of bright iridescence, in flames
Violet, yellow and green, silver, crimson, and shimmering gold,
Glorified space and struck down the world-dwellers to terrified prayer.
Sin, the great moon-god, the father of her who sought refuge alone,
Mourned in his mystical home; cried aloud through the uprising clamor,
Asking indulgence for Istar the woman. Him answered but one:
Allaraine, son of the stars, the bard of Æolian songs,
Lord of white clouds, who, begot of a sunset, went winging his way
Far through the star-vault at midnight, full-sprung, with his heavenly path
Marked by mellifluous song—'twas he who to Sin made reply.
He, who alone, from the earth's evening glow had beheld earthly passion,
Tranced by the high, fearless wrong of incarnate humanity's power,
Fearlessly now, before all the tumultuous host, voiced his pity.
Vain were his words, though they fell into space like the pearls of the sea,
Melting round God's very throne, with melodious ecstasy fraught.
Silent the archtypes heard, and in silence of trembling delight
Istar, the lover of souls, concealed in the moon's dim retreat,
Heard him. And silent the earth-world revolved and Time's pulses were stilled.
Finally, out of the deep, where space is not and time cannot be,
God, the Almighty Jehovah, made answer to Allaraine's plea:
"Istar, who knowledge of incarnate souls was forbidden to hold,
Thou, who unknowing, daredst pity men's sorrows and sins manifold.
Go to the earth-world as one among men, and there shalt thou behold
Life, and its correlate, Death. Sentient there thou shalt live, but shalt be
Heaven-born still, and thus worshipped on earth, though thou mayst not be free
Till, 'neath the sorrows of flesh, thou shalt find man's relation to me."

Out of the mists of the moon floated Istar the daughter of Sin.
Out of the mists and the fog came she forth, and Æolian choirs,
Winds of the evening, sang low of her going. Upborne by her tresses
Floating above and about her, she sank; and the dawn was not yet.
Istar, the daughter of Sin, in her vestment of tissue of silver,
Under which glowed the deep purple proclaiming her godhead, and there,
Full on her breast, the bright flush of the crimson that told of her passion,
Laughed to herself and the winds, as she came forth from out of her refuge.
Down, far adown the dark, mystical depths of the chasm of chaos
Floated the mystical maiden; a voice like a clarion echo
Calling from out of the mist she had left: "O Istar, beloved,
Hear and return unto me, father, archtype, soul of the sphere!"
Istar, the daughter of Sin, obeying the word of the Lord,
Heard but not heeded the voice. Only pausing a thought in her course,
Flinging her head to the stars, laughed aloud with her lips that were scarlet.
Then, with a shake and a shrug of her bare, cloud-born shoulders, she sent
Clashing and ringing below into space a bright silvery shower
Flashing and pringling with light; which earth-men calléd shower of stars.
Istar continued her flight and went swaying her tortuous way
Down and adown past all planets and suns in their horror of heat,
Till, in the end, the great fall was accomplished, and Istar was born,
Soulless and pure in the city called "Gateway of God."