The Equinox (Volume I, Number V)

THE AUTUMN WOODS The grave of desolation 1 I am weary Of all things; let me sleep my life away! The breast 01 Fate is pregnant with despair Got on her by the piercing shaft of Time. Ah ! Unborn child of Fate and Time, I am weary Of them that gave thee birth. Shall I love thee? O darling, wilt thou come to me in the silence, Saying : I hear the mystery 01 Time, And the secret of Fate? I know not yet, but surely Thou shalt know of the Rose, the Rose, the Rose of the world ; With thee shall I bear the chalice of blood-tipped lilies, The chalice of red, sweet lilies under the moon ? But now there is no moon, nor any sun; The world's gray noon only is for thee and me; There is no sound in the nerveless silences Of the fading world; there is a quiver of light On the river of life; we are unwed, my Rose, Nor knoweth each the other ; we are undone, My Rose, my secret Rose, my unknown Rose! And still the Autumn woods are rustling dumbly With sodden leaves made brown by wind and rain ; And the satyrs are fled under the earth to hide From the sunless world, and the nymphs are faded to air, To be reborn in the sun—light: there is no morejoy, For mournfulness is fallen on the world, And decadence and decay and the odour 01 eld. 151