THE EQUINOX
O Thou art like an Hawk of Gold,
Miraculously manifold,
For all the sky’s aflame to be
A mirror magical of Thee!
The stars seem comets, rushing down
To gem thy robes, bedew thy crown.
Like the moon-plumes of a strange bird
By a great wind sublimely stirred,
Thou drawest the light of all the skies
Into thy wake. The heaven dies
In bubbling froth of light, that foams
About thine ardour. All the domes
Of all the heavens close above thee
As thou art known of me who love thee.
Excellent kiss, thou fastenest on
This soul of mine, that it is gone,
Gone from all life, and rapt away
Into the infinite starry spray
Of thine own AZon. . . . Alas for me!
I faint. Thy mystic majesty
Absorbs this spark.
OLYMPAS. All hail! all hail!
White splendour through the viewless veil !
I am drawn with thee to rapture. . . .
Yet no sooner is this attained than he utters the new
doctrine declared in Lider Legis.
marsyaS. I bear a message. Heaven hath sent
The knowledge of a new, sweet way
Into the Secret Element.
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