The Equinox (Volume I, Number IX)

A BALLAD OF BEDLAM Out from the windswept hollows of the Tomb Into the Night,— Impenetrable gloom Folding me in from sound and sense and sight; No Light, Save from that leprous orb men call the Moon, Whose rune Spells Death and Madness : Like to a blinded babe from out the womb, Like a dishevelled ghost before the tomb, I wandered, seeking for my Self, the boom Of ANCIENT DAYS was on me. Not a star Swam in the heavens,—but aloft, afar, One Meteor Rolled like a great gold goblet through the sky, Spilling strange dreams. Strange dreams that ever flow, yet flow amiss The while a slow voice whispers : “‘ This, perchance then ruts!” Yet never comes the right one. Time is ended. Time.and Eternity with Fate have blended 207