[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
The awful vaults we traverse. Were the sun
Himself the one
Glory of space, he would but illustrate
The night of Fate.
Are not the hosts of heaven in vain arrayed?
Their light dismayed
Before the vast blind spaces of the sky?
O galaxy
Of thousands upon thousands closely curled,
Your golden world
Incalculably small, its closest cluster
Mere milky lustre
Staining the infinite darkness! Base and blind
Our minion mind
Seeks a great light, a light sufficient, light
Insufferably bright,
Hence hidden for an hour: imagining
This vast vain thing,
We call it God, and Father. Empty hand
And prayer unplanned
Stretched fatuous to the void. Ah! men my friends
What fury sends
This folly to intoxicate your hearts?
Dread air disparts
Your vital ways from these unsavoury follies;
Black melancholies
Sit straddled on your bended backs. The throne
Of the unknown
Is fit for children. We are too well ware
How vain is prayer,
How nought is great, since all is immanent
The vast content
Of all the universe unalterable.
We know too well
How no one thing abides awhile at all,
How all things fall,
Fall from their seat, the lamentable place,
Before their face,
Weary and pass and are no more. So we,
Since hope must be,
Look to the future, to the chance minute
That life may shoot
Some flower at least to blossom in the night,
Since vital light
Is sure to fail us on the hideous way.
What? Must we pray!
Verily, O thou littlest babe, too weak
To stir or speak,
Capable hardly of a thought, yet seed
Of word and deed!
To thine assured fruition we may trust
This weary dust.
We who are old, and palsied (and so wise!)
Lift up our eyes
To little children, as the storm-tossed bark
Hails in the dark
Some hardly visible harbour light; we hold
The hours of gold
To our own breasts, whose hours are iron and brass: ---
So swift they pass
And grind us down: --- we hold the wondrous light
Our scattering sight
Yet sees, the one star in a night of woe.
We trust, and so
Lift up our voices in the dying day
Indeed to pray:
O little hands that are so soft and strong,
Lead us along!
[SOR. GEMINI "plays accordingly."
["A pause."
FR. GEMINI. Brother Virgo, wilt thou not join us who love not Speech?
VIRGO. Hail unto Mercury. He killeth Sol at the close of every Twilight,
and hangeth up the sky of Night on the Tree of Heaven, fastened up with the
Star-headed nails.
MERCURY. Brother Gemini, do Thou perform the dance of thy Virginal Sister.
[FR. GEMINI "dances."
["At the end of his dance, he falls before the altar." SOROR GEMINI "and
all" PROBATIONERS "circumambulate round him, then stop, facing"
MERCURY.]
MERCURY. Come, Sister, no Divine Being can be reached, save through Me.
["He descends, and joins the" PROBATIONERS, "leading" SOROR GEMINI "by the hand."]
[VIRGO, "left now alone before the empty shrine of" MERCURY, "walks slowly in front of it."]
VIRGO. Hail unto the Lord Mercury!
["A pause, during which all" PROBATIONERS "bend their heads low." MERCURY stands
apart with" SOR. GEMINI. VIRGO "stands still before the shrine, hooded."]
MERCURY. And this word I speak unto ye:
["He is heard whispering."
StiBeTTChePhMeFShiSS
["A pause."
MERCURY. ("loudly"). Konx Om Pax!
["Purple light off, white light on."
["He seats" SOR. GEMINI "upon his Throne. She plays her babe-
music."}
FR. GEMINI. The will of the Gods be accomplished!
["All depart."
THE RITE OF LUNA
OFFICERS
LUNA. "Silver Robe and Veil. Violin. Artemis. The Lady of the Moon."
CANCER. "Amber Robe. Cup. Warden of the Holy Graal."
TAURUS. "Orange Robe. Bow and Quiver. The Lord of the Bow."
A NYMPH. "White robe. The Head of the Dragon."
A SATYR. "Black Robe. The Tail of the Dragon."
PAN. "Black Robe, Tom-tom."
"In the East Luna is throned, Cancer on her right, Taurus on her left. Beyond
these the Satyr and the Nymph. At the apex of a descending Triangle,
upon the earth, Pan."
THE RITE OF LUNA
"One reciteth "The Twelvefold Certitude of God," from" 963
"The veil is withdrawn."
CANCER. 333-333-333.
TAURUS. 333-333-333.
CANCER. 1. Brother Taurus, what is the hour?
TAURUS. Moonrise.
CANCER. 1. Brother Taurus, what is the place?
TAURUS. The Chapel of the Holy Graal.
CANCER. 1. What is my office?
TAURUS. Warden of the Graal.
CANCER. 1. What is my robe?
TAURUS. Chastity.
CANCER. 1. What is my weapon?
TAURUS. Vigilance.
CANCER. 1. Whom do we serve?
TAURUS. The Lady Artemis.
CANCER. 1. How many are her servants?
TAURUS. Nine.
CANCER. 1. Who are they?
TAURUS. Three for the dew; three for the rain; and three for the snow.
CANCER. 1. Who are the great Officers?
[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]