The Equinox (Volume I, Number I)

96 THE EQUINOX Of him, and yet—what visions there uproll To cloud that mirror-soul of mine? Above my head there screams a flying scroll Whose word burnt through My being as when stars drop in black disastrous dew. x For in that scroll was written how the globe Of space became ; of how the light Broke in that space and wrapped it in a robe Of glory; of how One most white Withdrew that Whole, and hid it in the lobe Of his right Ear, So that the Universe one dewdrop did appear. XI Yea! and the end revealed a word, a spell, An incantation, a device Whereby the Eye of the Most Terrible Wakes from Its wilderness of ice To flame, whereby the very core of hell Bursts from its rind, Sweeping the world away into the blank of mind. XII So then I saw my fault; I plunged within The well, and brake the images That I had made, as I must make—Men spin