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Page 1 of 61913 · PDF PAGE 224
…om the sod, Because he bears the mantle of a god. The hour has struck at last ; henceforth the Way Is sundered from the sunlight and the day. No one shall heed my singing; there shall be —How well I know !—no seer that shall see. And none shall know the secret thing I write With speeding pen in the dim candle-light. Because my Rose is mine, no man shall find Wherefore I know, that was erewhile so blind; Nor wherefore, by the light of one dim star, I see thee here, Lady of the Rose, Istar. XXI THE POET SPEAKS HIERE shall be set the sigil of the …
1913 · PDF PAGE 207
…e spring. But the hornéd satyrs under the beechen boughs Still linger, as the hour of triumph grows In the Ram’s mouth: and the heart of day is torn With the fear of the new Birth: no more is set The Crown on the temples of the dawn; no more Is heard the clarion of the day; the ways Are darkened for delight, and pure for pain Of birth, stretch forth to the ends of the universe— A long, still road of longing, passion-pale With the dust of lives, and strewn with the bitterness Of the heart of man, the weary heart of man! And deeply set betwixt th…
1913 · PDF PAGE 218
180 THE EQUINOX In the mist, and in the sunshine, and the day! Thou art married to Love, maybe, for Love sits weeping In my desolate heart, nor know I what can ail him, Save it be that thou art fled; immortal Love And mortal Death, and are ye separate still, Even as I and as the unknown Rose? Maybe the Rose is Death, and I am Love, Wed to young Life, and jealous of desire Of Death! Oh, in the cool green colonnades I have lingered late, even till the night’s slow fall, And I have heard the dying voices of day, The market-women’s chatter growing …
1913 · PDF PAGE 187
…of spring: He shall sing— But a shadow shall lie before. He shall find no thing Whereby he may linger, and say, Behold! I have found the day. His day is over: utterly he shall die, My Rose, under the sky. He shall lie with the worm, And so no more with thee ; There shall be set this term To his mortality. Yet shall he worship thee With his tears For a few short years. And then he shall be Nothing at all to thee, Who sang thee when no other man would sing thee, Who brought unto thee all that he could bring thee. Night, that art mother of our qui…
1913 · PDF PAGE 15
…nevolence regulate your conduct. Exert your abilities in the service of your king and your country, and deem the knowledge you have this day attained the happiest acquisition of your life. “Recall to memory the ceremony of your initiation; learn to bridle your tongue and to govern your passions: and ere long you will have occasion to say: ‘In becoming a M., I truly became the man; and while I breathe will never disgrace a jewel that kings may prize.’ “Tf I live, my son, to reap the fruits of this day’s labour, my happiness will be complete. I w…
1913 · PDF PAGE 193
…ilies rimmed with blood, With blood ; and the bitter flood Of thy tears is dying away, away, away, Beyond the hills, the hidden hills of day. These are but lilies, O my silent god ; Where thy feet have trod Upon the earthly way They have sprung, And the songs that have been sung Are faded with the day. My little heap of ashes, thou wast god, Yea, utterly wast thou god! So there are no more roses, no more roses ; There shall be no more songs to thee, Lord of the lilies and the silent sea Of Time. No rime This night brings to thee: closes The hou…
1913 · PDF PAGE 181
…ht. Still shall I feel the wind that blows From the secret grave of thee, my Rose. IV DECADENCE TwILicut, that is the thin gray ghost of day, Holds the dim way of death ; the darkness grows More sanguine-hearted as the hour is sped, And with less light is fed; Thine hour grows, grows alway : Thou art mine, mine own, mine own, thou sanguine Rose. Thou sanguine Rose! Deep-hearted as the hour Thou bearest as a flame; more argent-shod Than the eloquent bringer of the god’s delight: Here, from the edge of night I pluck thee forth, a flower Too fair …
1913 · PDF PAGE 560
…to immor- talize myself with the sight of the eternal truth. Let there be light! and there is light. Light, eternal as God, begins every day for all eyes that are open to see it. Truth will be eternally the invention and the creation of genius; it cries: Let there be light! and genius itself is, because light is. Genius is immortal because it understands that light is eternal. Genius contemplates truth as its work because it is the victor of light, and immortality is the triumph of light because it will be the recompense and crown of genius. Bu…
1913 · PDF PAGE 100
…IAN. So mote it be. And thou in turn devise Response of slumberous antiphonies. 1st Semi-chorus. Night is nigh; the velvet veil Drawn on day the faery-frail ! Sleep, O sleep, our angel eyes Woo thy kiss with symphonies Hushed to lowlier lullabies| 2nd Semi-chorus. Brethren, was the battle long? All’s assuaged for evensong. Here the God is in his shrine: Here the golden Bough divine; Here the dove incarnadinel! 1st Semi-chorus. Dream shall hint what manifold Mystery our life may hold. 2nd Semé-chorus. Dreamless sleep shall arm the fray Fated for…
1913 · PDF PAGE 374
…UINOX charity, has breathed upon this dust; and all that which was dead has taken life again so really that one recognizes no more yesterday’s corpses in these living creatures of to-day. And why should one recognize them, since the world is renewed, since St. Paul burned at Ephesus the books of the hierophants? Was then St. Paul a barbarian, and was he committing a crime against science? No, but he burned the winding-sheets of the resuscitated that they might forget death. Why, then, do we to-day recall the qabalistic origins of dogma? Why do …
1913 · PDF PAGE 234
THE EQUINOX The dusk is fallen ; there is no more green ; The day is past, and love and life are fled: Out from my window in the night I lean To hear the waiting ghosts of hours long dead. But, being dead, they dwell at rest in me, Turned into song by love’s strange alchemy. Wherefore I sing of things long past and dead; Wherefore I murmur foolishly in sleep; The old, old pain still throbbing through my head In dreams of desert valleys, mountains steep, With winding paths ; hot suns and scorching plains. There is a fire unquenched within my bra…
1913 · PDF PAGE 319
THE KEY OF THE MYSTERIES The great week of creation has been imitated by human genius, divining the forms of nature. Every day has furnished a new revelation, every new king of the world has been for a day the image and the incarnation of God! Sublime dream which explains the mysteries of India, and justifies all symbolisms! The lofty conception of the man-God corresponds to the creation of Adam, and Christianity, like the first days of man in the earthly paradise, has been only an aspiration and a widowhood. We wait for the worship of the brid…
1913 · PDF PAGE 402
…rnal loss. Q. Can one repair a fault? a. Yes; by expiation. Q. What is expiation ? A. Working overtime. Thus, because I was lazy yester- day, I had to do a double task to-day. Q. What are we to think of those who impose on them- selves voluntary sufferings? A. If they do so in order to overcome the brutal fascination of pleasure, they are wise; if to suffer instead of others, they are generous; but if they do it without discretion and without measure, they are imprudent. Q. Thus, in the eyes of true philosophy, religion is wise in all that it o…
1913 · PDF PAGE 215
…owering skies and the bitter blasts— There is no living thing in the temple of Summer, And the ashes of spring lie cold on the hearth of day. Gray dreams again! And all my hope is fled. Gray dreams! gray dreams! and the day is tired and dead. The bitter aftermath of summer brings Time’s memory back to the world: there are no stings In the world’s pain, but only bitterness Of the memory of Time; no sore distress, Save for the thought of Summer waned and dead, And faded with the gold skies overhead, And the young green beneath; ah! secret Rose! H…
1913 · PDF PAGE 356
THE EQUINOX The old guard does not surrender, but neither does it die! The proof of it is the enthusiasm of our children, who mean, one day, to be also soldiers of the old guard! Napoleon is no more a man: he is the very genius of France, he is the second saviour of the world, and he also gave for a sign the cross to his apostles. St. Helena and Golgotha are the beacons of the new civilization; they are the two piles of an immense bridge made by the rainbow of the final deluge, and which throws a bridge between the two worlds. And can you belie…
1913 · PDF PAGE 66
…hat temple is already aright disposed—& it shall be your Kiblah for ever. It shall not fade, but miraculous colour shall come back to it day after day. Close it in locked glass for a proof to the world. 11. This shall be your only proof. I forbid argument. Conquer! That is enough. I will make easy to you the abstruction from the ill-ordered house in the Victorious City. Thou shalt thyself convey it with worship, o prophet, though thou likest it not. Thou shalt have danger & trouble. Ra- Hoor-Khu is with thee. Worship me with fire & blood; worsh…
1913 · PDF PAGE 485
…l religious dogma of the Qabalah, because he had not the science of the beautiful hypothesis, partly demonstrated and realized more from day to day by the discoveries of science: I refer to wzversal analogy. Deprived of this key of transcendental dogma, he could see no more of the gods than the sun, the seven planets, and the twelve signs of the zodiac; but he did not see in the sun the image of the Logos of Plato, in the seven planets the seven notes of the celestial gamut, and in the zodiac the quadrature of the ternary circle of all initiati…
1913 · PDF PAGE 273
… like Bacchanals afloat Under the proudly phallic throat! Be thou to my pilgrimage Light, and laughter sweet and sage, Till the darkling day expire Of my life in thy caress, Thou my frenzy and my fire, Lamp of living loveliness ! Thou the ruler of the rod That beneath thy clasp extends To the galaxies of God From the gulph where ocean ends, Cave of dragon, ruby rose, Heart of hell, garden-close, 235
1913 · PDF PAGE 562
…ished, had it been possible—he said it in so many words at his trial—to burst the globe like a cooked chestnut, Lacenaire, who spent his days in plotting murders, in order to have the means of passing his nights in ignoble orgies or in the excite- ment of gambling, boasted aloud that he had lived. Hecalled that living, and he sang a hymn to the guillotine, which he called his beautiful betrothed, and the world was full of imbe- ciles who admired the wretch! Alfred de Musset, before extinguishing himself in drunkenness, wasted one of the finest …
1913 · PDF PAGE 200
162 THE EQUINOX Dies down to dusk; The day is dim... . Hawthorn and musk. . . . The seraphim Play on the breeze : The ponds are stirred By the mysteries Of the secret Word. The lost Word floats Over the dunes In silver notes And golden tunes, And mystic runes. O secret Rose! O secret Flame! The west wind blows The secret Name Into the ears Of the wandering lights That love their fears In the summer nights, And in autumn rejoice By the haunted meres, Hearing the voice Of the seven spheres, Who are merged in the sun, Whom the moonlight frees, And…