Collected Works (Vol. I)

83 JEPUTHAIL Where the flashes white and wise Find their mortal foe. Let us thither, caring not Anything, or any more, Since the sorrow of our lot Craves to pass the abysmal door. Never more for us shall twine Rosy fingers on the vine. Never maiden lips shall cull Myriad blossoms beautiful. Never cheeks shall dimple over st the perfume of the clover. Never bosoms bright and round Shall be garlanded and bound With the chain of myrtle, wreathed By the fingers of the maid Kach has chosen for a mate, When the west wind lately breathed Murmurs in the wanton glade Of the day that dawneth late In a maiden’s horoscope, Dawning faith and fire and hope On the spring that only knew Flowers and butterflies and dew, Skies and seas and mountains blue, On the spring that wot not of Fruit and falling leaves and love. Never dew-dashed foreheads fair Shall salute the idle air. Never shall we wander deep Where the fronds of fern, asleep, Kiss her rosy feet that pass On the spangled summer grass, ilalfawake, and drowse again. Never more our feet shall stain Purple with the Joyous grape, Whence there rose a fairy shape In the fume and must and juice, Singing lest our eyes escape All his tunic wried and louse With the feet that softly trod Tn the vat the fairy god. Never more our eyes shall swim, Lovking for the love of him In the magic moon that bent Over maidens moon-content, When the summer woods were wet With our dewy songs, that set Quivering all seas and snows, Stars and tender winds that fret Lily, lily, laughing rose, Sighing, sighing violet, Dusky pansy, swaying rush, And the stream that flows Singing, ringing softly: Flush! Listen to the bird that goes Wooing to the brown mate’s bough ; Listen to the breeze that blows Over cape and valley now At the silence of the noon, Or the slumber-hour Of the white delicious moon Like a lotus-flower ! Let us sadly, slowly, go To the silence of the snow ! ADULAH [embracing JEPHTHAN]. Whose crystal fastnesses shall echo back The lamentations of these friends of mine, But not my tears. For I will fit myself By solitude and fasting and much prayer For this most holy ceremony, to be A perfect, pure, accepted sacrifice. Only this sorrow—O father, father, speak! JEPHTHAH. Go! ADULAH. Most unblamable, we come again. I would not weep with these; I dare not Stay, Lest I weep louder than them all. Fare well, My father, O my father! Iam passing Into the night. Remember me as drawn Into the night toward the golden dawn.! (Axeunt ADULAH and Maidens. 1 The ‘‘Golden Dawn" meant at this time to Crowley all that ‘‘Christ’’ means to an Evangelical, and more. The symbol con- stantly recurs in this and many other poems, | and always in the sense of a rescuing force.