The Equinox (Volume I, Number X)

THE EQUINOX And the flesh, alas! is the core of thee. Be it so. I have wandered through the worlds in seeking thee, And I have found thee, and thou art as pure As dung, as sweet as sweat, as light as lust. All these, all these I have found, oh, bitterness! O forsaken one, whom I have found, thou art ravished By the phallus of Time, of Time that pierceth thee So keenly that thou art torn, thy virgin body A prey to the lust of Time! Oh, bitterness ! Oh, threefold sadness! I have found thee now Too late, too late, too late. I am weary of flesh; It burns me now I have lost thee! I sicken of time, It sears me, sears me! Now, no longer unknown, I have found thee, the harlot goddess. Why camest thou not When thou wast pure as I, a new-purged soul Weary for a space from the lusts of the world, set free From the clutches of flesh? For ever I have lost thee, And I damn thee, for that thou hast seduced me far From the olden way of the gods. O Rose! Rose! Rose Unknown, ah! wherefore hast thou done this thing? The spirit is dead within me, and the flesh Wearies of thee, whom never I have known: For thou art foul to me—a leprous worm Of sticky slime ; a clamorous courtezan With itching sores, thou bidd’st me scratch thee, ease Thine ill with the touches of love. Ah! slimy one, Rose of the world polluted, thou who holdest A boy’s dreams in derision, a man’s desires