THE EQUINOX
The spirit sleeps; the Rose of the world is buried
Under the soil of every star that glows,
A hanging lamp, under the firmament.
There shall be no more roses, no more roses,
Until the spring of the stars shall fall on the world,
Then shall be light again, Ο secret Rose,
And thou shalt be born anew, with radiant star-light
For dew, and all thy petals shall be dreams
Crystallised of the gods who swing the chains
Of the worlds in space ; and at the heart of thee
Shall be the secret knowledge, the sacred word,
The logos of the throbbing universe.
And the years shall pass in myriads over the tree
Whereon thou bloomest, O my Rose of the worlds
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And one shall pluck thee forth, and love and death
Shall lie together, and there shall be born
He who shall bear for ever into life
The rose-tipped lilies under the silent stars,
The silent stars, and the red-blushing roses.
O Rose, my Rose of the world, my Rose of Roses,
Thou shalt be born anew, and live for ever!
VICTOR ]. Ι.
NEUBURG.
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