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IN THE RED ROOM OF ROSE CROIX
Published in the International New York, New York, U.S.A. (pages 291-294)
The bleeding gate of God unveils its rose; The cavernous West swallows the dragon Sun; Earth’s darkness broods on dissolution, A mother-vulture, nested on Repose. Ah then! what grace within our girdle glows, What crimson web of will-work, wizard-spun To garb thy glee-gilt heart, Hilarion, An Alpenbluehn on our star-crested snows!
O scarlet flower, smear honey on the thigh Of this thy bee, that sucks thy sweetness dry! O bower of sunset, bring me to thy sleep Wherein move dreams stained purple with perfumes, Whose birds of paradise, on Punic plumes, Declare dooms undecipherably deep! |