Rosa Alchemica eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 24 pages of information about Rosa Alchemica.

Rosa Alchemica eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 24 pages of information about Rosa Alchemica.
phantasies are but the illusions that creep like maggots into civilizations when they begin to decline, and into minds when they begin to decay.’  I had grown suddenly angry, and seizing the alembic from the table, was about to rise and strike him with it, when the peacocks on the door behind him appeared to grow immense; and then the alembic fell from my fingers and I was drowned in a tide of green and blue and bronze feathers, and as I struggled hopelessly I heard a distant voice saying:  ’Our master Avicenna has written that all life proceeds out of corruption.’  The glittering feathers had now covered me completely, and I knew that I had struggled for hundreds of years, and was conquered at last.  I was sinking into the depth when the green and blue and bronze that seemed to fill the world became a sea of flame and swept me away, and as I was swirled along I heard a voice over my head cry, ‘The mirror is broken in two pieces,’ and another voice answer, ‘The mirror is broken in four pieces,’ and a more distant voice cry with an exultant cry, ’The mirror is broken into numberless pieces’; and then a multitude of pale hands were reaching towards me, and strange gentle faces bending above me, and half wailing and half caressing voices uttering words that were forgotten the moment they were spoken.  I was being lifted out of the tide of flame, and felt my memories, my hopes, my thoughts, my will, everything I held to be myself, melting away; then I seemed to rise through numberless companies of beings who were, I understood, in some way more certain than thought, each wrapped in his eternal moment, in the perfect lifting of an arm, in a little circlet of rhythmical words, in dreaming with dim eyes and half-closed eyelids.  And then I passed beyond these forms, which were so beautiful they had almost ceased to be, and, having endured strange moods, melancholy, as it seemed, with the weight of many worlds, I passed into that Death which is Beauty herself, and into that Loneliness which all the multitudes desire without ceasing.  All things that had ever lived seemed to come and dwell in my heart, and I in theirs; and I had never again known mortality or tears, had I not suddenly fallen from the certainty of vision into the uncertainty of dream, and become a drop of molten gold falling with immense rapidity, through a night elaborate with stars, and all about me a melancholy exultant wailing.  I fell and fell and fell, and then the wailing was but the wailing of the wind in the chimney, and I awoke to find myself leaning upon the table and supporting my head with my hands.  I saw the alembic swaying from side to side in the distant corner it had rolled to, and Michael Robartes watching me and waiting.  ’I will go wherever you will,’ I said, ’and do whatever you bid me, for I have been with eternal things.’  ‘I knew,’ he replied, ’you must need answer as you have answered, when I heard the storm begin.  You must come to a great distance, for we were commanded to build our temple between the pure multitude by the waves and the impure multitude of men.’

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Project Gutenberg
Rosa Alchemica from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.