117 
 
 
 
 
 
THE LADDER 
 
“ I will arise and go unto my Father ” 
 
MALKUTH 
DARK, dark, all dark !  I cower, I cringe. 
Only above me is a citron tinge 
As if some echo of red, gold, and blue 
Chimed on the night and let its shadow through. 
Yet I who am thus prisoned and exiled 
Am the right heir of glory, the crowned child. 
 
I match my might against my Fate’s, 
 I gird myself to reach the ultimate shores, 
  I arm myself the war to win :— 
Lift up your heads, O mighty gates !   
 Be ye lift up, ye everlasting doors !   
  The King of Glory shall come in. 
 
TAU 
I pass from the citrine :  deep indigo 
In this tall column.  Snakes and vultures bend 
Their hooded hate on him that would ascend. 
O may the Four avail me !  Ageless woe, 
Fear, torture, throng the threshold.  Lo !  The end 
Of matter !  The immensity of things