Carmen Saeculare

The Reign of Darkness hath an end. Behold ! Eight stars are gathered in one fiery sign. This is the birth-hour of the Age of Gold ; The false gold pales before the Gold divine. The Christ is calling to the starry fold Of Souls—Arise and shine ! The Isis of the World hath raised her veil One moment, that fresh glory of the stars May glow through winter, where the sun is pale ; Melt snow-bound lilies ; bid the prison bars, Wherein men bow their heads and women wail, Blossom to nenuphars. The sacred lotus of the universe Blossoms this century—a million tears Melted the ice of Eve’s accursèd curse : A million more have watered it—it peers, A resurrection fragrance, to disperse Men’s folly and their fears. The contemplation of those awful eyes, The flaming void, the godhead of the light, The abyss of these unfathomable skies, Exhaust my being ; I desire the night. Lo ! I have written all the destinies Thy spirit bade me write. 17