159 
 
 
 
 
 
THE WILD ASS 
 
I 
THE secret of the House of Set 
 
Is hidden in my sevenfold veil ; 
For I am he that doth beget 
 
The Rood, and bear the Holy Graal. 
 
Yet is my manhood woman-frail 
 
Barren my motherhood.  Then how 
Shall men my mystic mountain scale ?   
 
These ram’s-horn thumbs jut from my brow 
 
To push them to the miry slough 
 
Wherein the foes of Set are caught. 
Come, let us pluck the Golden Bough 
 
From the brave Tree of life and thought !   
 
Who heareth naught, he heedeth naught. 
 
Come, we are safely housed and shrined 
Where subtler images are wrought 
 
Than boast the treasuries of Mind !   
 
II 
The secret of the House of Set. 
 
As a poor pilgrim clambering 
Toils on the slopes, so I to get 
 
Halidom for my lord the King.