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PERSONS OF THE MYSTERY JULIA, @ priestess JOANNA, a virgin JOHN, high priest of the Sun Jovian ais wardens A CHINAMAN AN ARAB A ZULU NU, @ seafaring man THE YOUNG JOHN Chorus of men, women and children
PERSONS OF THE MYSTERY JULIA, @ priestess JOANNA, a virgin JOHN, high priest of the Sun Jovian ais wardens A CHINAMAN AN ARAB A ZULU NU, @ seafaring man THE YOUNG JOHN Chorus of men, women and children
THE EQUINOX acceptit. And the moment you desire to do so you have only to remember this—Look at things from the point of view of the Sun. Love is the law, love under will. 186
…Which you believe you have this hour, But certainly have not, my friend !) Of keeping close the mind to one Thing at a time—suppose, the Sun. I gain this (Reverence to Ganesh’ !)46 And at that instant comprehend (The past and future tenses vanish) What Fichte comprehends. Division, Thought, wisdom, drop away. I see The absolute identity Of the beholder and the vision. There is a lake* amid the snows Wherein five glaciers merge and break. Oh ! the deep brilliance of the lake ! The roar of ice that cracks and goes Crashing within the water ! Glow…
Arise. In the name of our Lord + the Sun, and of our Lord + that thou mayst administer the virtues to the Brethren. She sheathes the Sword. The PRIEST, issuing jrom the Tomby holding the Tance erect with both handsy right over lejty against his breasty takes the first three regular steps. He then gives the Tance to the PRIESTESS and gives the three penal signs. He then kneels and vsorships the Tance with both hands. Penitential music. The PRIEST. I am a man among men. He takes again the Tance and lowers it. He rises. The PRIEST. How should I be…
XXX BEAUTIFUL DOROTHY THE sun overwhelms the town with its di- rect and terrible light; the sand dazzles and the sea glitters; the tired world has given up its work and is taking its siesta; a siesta which is a kind of sweet-savoured death, where the sleeper, half awake, tastes the pleasures of his annihilation. Dorothy, however, as strong and as bright as the sun, walks in the deserted street; at this hour she is the sole living being under the mighty vault of blue; she makes a startling black blot upon the light. She moves forward, softly swa…
THE FATAL FORCE 5 3 Glow from his palace, as the sun Leaps to the spring, whose coursers run Flaming before their golden master, As death and winter and disaster Fall from the Archer’s bitter kiss Fast to their mute abyss. The pale sweet blooms of lotos burn ; The scent of spring is in the soul; Men’s spirits to the loftiest turn; Light is extended and made whole. The waters of the whispering Nile Lisp of their loves a little while, Then break, like songsters, into sighing, Because the lazy days are dying; And swift and tawny streams must rise …
…utumn in the woods, Where the small floweret, hidden by the maze O’ th’ dying children o’ the copper-beech, Lifts a blue forehead to the sun to kiss— Fancies of old romance too pitiful For any delicate quill to light upon— Yes, when the sky from stainless ebony Merges in azure, like as if the light Of stars had melted into all the black To gladden it, O then the solemn hush Of morning shall behold the silent grave, And wait a moment in rich worshipping Of Love, creator of the world’s delight, Till the full chorus of the spirits of fire, Whose m…
…pphire, to the ocean glow; Thence into emerald and the golden light, Till ruby crowns the river’s living flow And glory of colour in the sun’s own flame— Beyond, to colours without sense or name, Impossible to man, whose vivid sight Would blast him with their splendour as they came Flashing through spiritual space, withdrawn Now, and now flung triumphant in the dawn Not of mere sun’s rise, but before the birth Of a new system on the unfolded lawn Of space beyond the sceptre of the Gods! I, seeing all this, would foil Time’s periods For one smal…
…ms. And the little owl in the willow , So passionless, still, we seem , As little fears our passing As he fears the passing stream . The sun has charmed our hearts , Our sense , to tranquility Quiet as weeds in the river Or the little owl in the tree . LA VECCHIA . ( To Walter Sickert , for his drawing .) THINK that that sad look of yours to - day 1 That dreamy gazing at the distances , Which keeps you standing rapt and motionless In that near present of the far away , Is full of memories and interplay Of thoughts of many days of happiness When…
…ut my Christ away ; and turn my brow Towards the south stedfastly ; my feet must go Some journey of despair. I dare not turn To meet the sun ; I will not follow him : Better to pass where sand and sulphur burn, And days are hazed with heat, and nights are dim With some malarial poison. Better lie Far and forgotten on some desert isle, Where I may watch the silent ships go by, And let them share my burden for awhile. Let me pass out beyond the city gate Where I may wander by the water still, And see the faint few stars immaculate Watch their own…
…w to the storm Of simple passion ; let me from the string Take many-coloured wing As a swift-thoughted arrow Vertically shot against the sun ! I would you were a sow And these my verses were your squealing farrow, That they might suck the milk of your perfection Unto them, that the worlds ear might be won, The worlds heart melted now, The worlds mind drawn from its dejection, By the sure fact that not in idle dream But sole in sense supreme Certainly visible and tangible Were you, O Rose, whose root remotest hell Nourishes, and whose top flo…
… life in thy light, and thy death Is part of my breath. My voices are many, Thy lyre is but one ; But thou art not as any Soul under the sun ! Thou hast power for an hour, The motherly dower. One voice of my voices Uncalled and unheard, No song that rejoices OF beast or of bird, No sound of my children sublime, But the spirit of time. Fear is his name, Nor flickers nor dies His blackening flame. Beware, were thou wise ! Not him shalt thou hail from the dusk with thy breath ; His name—it is Death! My seasons and years, Shalt thou traffic with th…
…MYSTERIES: EPILOGUE. JT ORACE, in the fruitful Sabine country, Where the wheat and vine are most abundant, Where the olive ripens in the sunshine, Where the streams are voiced with Dian’s whispers, Lived in quiet, with a woman’s passion To inspire his lute and bring contentment In the gray still days of early winter. I, remote from cities, like the poet, Tune my lesser lyre with other fingers, Yet am not a whit the less belovéd. And.to me the stars are never silent, Nor do sea and storm deny their music, Nor do flower and breeze refuse their ki…
42 THE SOUL OF OSIRIS. We are one as the dew that is drawn By the sun from the sea : we are curled In curves of delight and of dawn, On the lone, the immaculate lawn, Beyond the wild way of the world.
…beside the cruel wood. I am alone to kiss the silver lips ; I rend my clothing for the temple veil ; My hearts black night must act the suns eclipse ; My groans must play the earthquake, till I quail At my own dark imagining. And now The wind is bitterer : the air breeds snow ; I put my Christ away ; I turn my brow Towards the south stedfastly ; my feet must go Some journey of despair. I dare not turn To meet the sun ; I will not follow him : Better to pass where sand and sulphur burn, And days are hazed with heat, and nights are dim With som…
…e crown is indigo as night ; Smaragdine snakes about thy brow Twine, and the disk of flaming light Is on thee, seated in the prow Of the Suns bark, enthrones above With lapis-lazuli for love And ruby for enormous force Chosen to seat thee, thee girt round With leopards spell, and golden sound Of planets choral in their course ! O thou self-formulated sire ! Self-master of thy dams desire ! Thine eyes blaze forth with fiery light ; Thine heart a secret sun of flame ! I adore the insuperable might : I bow before the unspoken Name. For I am Yes…
THE PRINCESS OF PANORMITA 51 Let him pierce his God to the marrow ! Let the soul of his God flow out ! Whether a snake or a sun In his horoscope Heaven hath cast, It is nothing ; every one Shall win to the moon at last. The mage hath wrought by his art A billion shapes in the sun. Look through to the heart of his heart, And the many are shapes of one ! An end to the art of the mage, And the cold grey blank of the prison ! An end to the adamant age ! The ambrosial moon is arisen. I have bought a lilywhite goat For the price of a crown of thorns,…
…'s horns, showing energy, dominion, the force that breaks down obstacles, the sign of the spring. Between these horns is the disk of the sun; from this springs a Lotus upheld by the twin plumes of truth, and three other sun-disks are upheld, one by the cup of the lotus, the others beneath the curving feathers. There is still another Crown, the Crown of Amoun, the concealed 139
…Reaches of space from star to star , And I had flung my sight Beyond all barrier of the azure haze , The garment of the days , Which the sun weaves of shattered light and air The sun deceives , Darkness alone all secrets doth declare . Not when the heart is glad and swells with loud Paean of youth , Or triumph of maturer years , Can it draw near to knowledge . Tears And sorrow , sorrow , are the soul of truth . Not because all is sadness Inevitably : the joys that do obscure Are no less real Than sorrows which reveal ; But joy the spendthrift r…