THE EQUINOX
SIMPLEX.
Behold again: an empty well—
A crystal pure—a dry sea—
Birds—a dead bird, a live bird, a phoenix—
A dying immortal harlot-goddess—
A cage (alas! it broke open
In the year of the sixteenth Funeral).
TuHE Mos.
Down with the birds!
SIMPLICIOR.
Yet, neither Bird could re-enter it!
THE Mos.
Beer and Cup-ties!
Smpcicissimus. [Pointedly.]
The Spirit of Persistency conceived!
THE Mos.
Down with the Spirits!
SIMPLEX.
Behold again, Impatients, and decide:
Two centres I saw, that were but one—
A thick set of hair upon a white skull—
A Spider patient (with my qualities),
Slowly webbing the slightly soiled cavities—
A lute, a rapturing lute aux sons clairs,
(But Oh, He, Ho, for three weary years
The lute hath no song!)—
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