The Equinox (Volume I, Number X)

ROSA IGNOTA VI THE VALLEY Ir is undone, the spell, and I am cast Out to the winds; at last I shall perish utterly, I know: But I shall lie asleep on the breast of the Past, Nor feel the sun, nor the tempest, nor the snow, And all my woe Shall be as naught to me, For I shall be utterly free As I am utterly dead. So let no requiem be said Over my mouldering head, And let no vague, sweet songs be sung By any tongue! For he to whom the songs are given Hath no ear to receive. The chord is riven, And he did not believe. He had no fear to die, for death could give No more pain . Than that he knew whilst he did live. He lives again In the earth Whence he had birth. Gladly he lies at rest, asleep, unknown, His ashes scattered to the four winds, blown About the world: his songs K2 147