3.15.
3.30.
345.
28
THE EQUINOX
Yet now—ah now 1—1 am but a dead man.
Within
me and without still stirs that life of sense that is not
life, but is as the worms that {east upon my corpse.
.
.
. Adonail
Adonai! my Lord Adonai! indeed,
Thou hast forsaken me.
Nay! thou liest, O weak
soul!
Abide in the meditation; unite all thy symbols
into the form of a Lion, and be lord of thy jungle,
travelling through the servile Universe even as Man
the Lion very lordly, the Sun in His strength that
travelleth over the heaven of Nu in His bark in the
mid-career of Day.
For all these thoughts are vain; there is but One
thought, though that thought be not yet born—He
only is God, and there is none other God than Hel
Walking home with mantra;
suddenly a spasm of
weeping took me as I cried through the manna—" My
God, my God, why hast Thou forsaken me?”—and I
have to stop and put it down I
A good thing; for it calms me.
At the Dome, master of myself. The Mantra goes just
30 times a minute, 1800 times an hour, 43,200 times
a day.
To say it a million times would take longer
than Mrs. Glyn’s heroine did to conceive.
Yet I will
get the result if I have to say it a hundred and eleven
million times.
But oh! fertilise my Akasic egg to-
day]
This remark, one should notice, is truly characteristic
of the man John St. John.
I see how funny it is; but
I’m quite serious withal.
Ye dull dogs!