,,rosa ,,alchemica   ,by ,w4,b4 ,yeats  
,o blessed and happy he1 who knowing the
 mysteries of the gods1 sanctifies his  
life1 and purifies his soul1 celebrating
 orgies in the mountains with holy      
purifications4--,euripides4     ,,rosa  
,,alchemica4     ,i   ,it is now more   
than ten years since ,i met1 for the    
last time1 ,michael ,robartes1 and for  
the first time and the last time his    
friends and fellow students2 and        
witnessed his and their tragic end1 and 
endured those strange experiences1 which
 have changed me so that my writings    
have grown less popular and less        
intelligible1 and driven me almost to   
the verge of taking the habit of ,st4   
,dominic4 ,i had just published ,rosa   
,alchemica1 a little work on the        
,alchemists1 somewhat in the manner of  
,sir ,thomas ,browne1 and had received  
many letters from believers in the      
arcane sciences1 upbraiding what they   
called my timidity1 for they could not  
believe so evident sympathy but the     

sympathy of the artist1 which is half   
pity1 for everything which has moved    
men's hearts in any age4 ,i had         
discovered1 early in my researches1 that
 their doctrine was no merely chemical  
phantasy1 but a philosophy they applied 
to the world1 to the elements and to man
 himself2 and that they sought to       
fashion gold out of common metals merely
 as part of an universal transmutation  
of all things into some divine and      
imperishable substance2 and this enabled
 me to make my little book a fanciful   
reverie over the transmutation of life  
into art1 and a cry of measureless      
desire for a world made wholly of       
essences4  ,i was sitting dreaming of   
what ,i had written1 in my house in one 
of the old parts of ,dublin2 a house my 
ancestors had made almost famous through
 their part in the politics of the city 
and their friendships with the famous   
men of their generations2 and was       
feeling an unwonted happiness at having 
at last accomplished a long-cherished   

design1 and made my rooms an expression 
of this favourite doctrine4 ,the        
portraits1 of more historical than      
artistic interest1 had gone2 and        
tapestry1 full of the blue and bronze of
 peacocks1 fell over the doors1 and shut
 out all history and activity untouched 
with beauty and peace2 and now when ,i  
looked at my ,crevelli and pondered on  
the rose in the hand of the ,virgin1    
wherein the form was so delicate and    
precise that it seemed more like a      
thought than a flower1 or at the grey   
dawn and rapturous faces of my          
,francesca1 ,i knew all a ,christian's  
ecstasy without his slavery to rule and 
custom2 when ,i pondered over the       
antique bronze gods and goddesses1 which
 ,i had mortgaged my house to buy1 ,i   
had all a pagan's delight in various    
beauty and without his terror at        
sleepless destiny and his labour with   
many sacrifices2 and ,i had only to go  
to my bookshelf1 where every book was   
bound in leather1 stamped with intricate

 ornament1 and of a carefully chosen    
colour3 ,shakespeare in the orange of   
the glory of the world1 ,dante in the   
dull red of his anger1 ,milton in the   
blue grey of his formal calm2 and ,i    
could experience what ,i would of human 
passions without their bitterness and   
without satiety4 ,i had gathered about  
me all gods because ,i believed in none1
 and experienced every pleasure because 
,i gave myself to none1 but held myself 
apart1 individual1 indissoluble1 a      
mirror of polished steel3 ,i looked in  
the triumph of this imagination at the  
birds of ,hera1 glowing in the firelight
 as though they were wrought of jewels2 
and to my mind1 for which symbolism was 
a necessity1 they seemed the doorkeepers
 of my world1 shutting out all that was 
not of as affluent a beauty as their    
own2 and for a moment ,i thought as ,i  
had thought in so many other moments1   
that it was possible to rob life of     
every bitterness except the bitterness  
of death2 and then a thought which had  

followed this thought1 time after time1 
filled me with a passionate sorrow4 ,all
 those forms3 that ,madonna with her    
brooding purity1 those rapturous faces  
singing in the morning light1 those     
bronze divinities with their passionless
 dignity1 those wild shapes rushing from
 despair to despair1 belonged to a      
divine world wherein ,i had no part2 and
 every experience1 however profound1    
every perception1 however exquisite1    
would bring me the bitter dream of a    
limitless energy ,i could never know1   
and even in my most perfect moment ,i   
would be two selves1 the one watching   
with heavy eyes the other's moment of   
content4 ,i had heaped about me the gold
 born in the crucibles of others2 but   
the supreme dream of the alchemist1 the 
transmutation of the weary heart into a 
weariless spirit1 was as far from me as1
 ,i doubted not1 it had been from him   
also4 ,i turned to my last purchase1 a  
set of alchemical apparatus which1 the  
dealer in the ,rue le ,peletier had     

assured me1 once belonged to ,raymond   
,lully1 and as ,i joined the alembic to 
the athanor and laid the lavacrum maris 
at their side1 ,i understood the        
alchemical doctrine1 that all beings1   
divided from the great deep where       
spirits wander1 one and yet a multitude1
 are weary2 and sympathized1 in the     
pride of my connoisseurship1 with the   
consuming thirst for destruction which  
made the alchemist veil under his       
symbols of lions and dragons1 of eagles 
and ravens1 of dew and of nitre1 a      
search for an essence which would       
dissolve all mortal things4 ,i repeated 
to myself the ninth key of ,basilius    
,valentinus1 in which he compares the   
fire of the last day to the fire of the 
alchemist1 and the world to the         
alchemist's furnace1 and would have us  
know that all must be dissolved before  
the divine substance1 material gold or  
immaterial ecstasy1 awake4 ,i had       
dissolved indeed the mortal world and   
lived amid immortal essences1 but had   

obtained no miraculous ecstasy4 ,as ,i  
thought of these things1 ,i drew aside  
the curtains and looked out into the    
darkness1 and it seemed to my troubled  
fancy that all those little points of   
light filling the sky were the furnaces 
of innumerable divine alchemists1 who   
labour continually1 turning lead into   
gold1 weariness into ecstasy1 bodies    
into souls1 the darkness into ,god2 and 
at their perfect labour my mortality    
grew heavy1 and ,i cried out1 as so many
 dreamers and men of letters in our age 
have cried1 for the birth of that       
elaborate spiritual beauty which could  
alone uplift souls weighted with so many
 dreams4     ,,ii   ,my reverie was     
broken by a loud knocking at the door1  
and ,i wondered the more at this because
 ,i had no visitors1 and had bid my     
servants do all things silently1 lest   
they broke the dream of my inner life4  
,feeling a little curious1 ,i resolved  
to go to the door myself1 and1 taking   
one of the silver candlesticks from the 

mantlepiece1 began to descend the       
stairs4 ,the servants appeared to be    
out1 for though the sound poured through
 every corner and crevice of the house  
there was no stir in the lower rooms4 ,i
 remembered that because my needs were  
so few1 my part in life so little1 they 
had begun to come and go as they would1 
often leaving me alone for hours4 ,the  
emptiness and silence of a world from   
which ,i had driven everything but      
dreams suddenly overwhelmed me1 and ,i  
shuddered as ,i drew the bolt4 ,i found 
before me ,michael ,robartes1 whom ,i   
had not seen for years1 and whose wild  
red hair1 fierce eyes1 sensitive1       
tremulous lips and rough clothes1 made  
him look now1 just as they used to do   
fifteen years before1 something between 
a debauchee1 a saint1 and a peasant4 ,he
 had recently come to ,ireland1 he said1
 and wished to see me on a matter of    
importance3 indeed1 the only matter of  
importance for him and for me4 ,his     
voice brought up before me our student  

years in ,paris1 and remembering the    
magnetic power he had once possessed    
over me1 a little fear mingled with much
 annoyance at this irrelevant intrusion1
 as ,i led the way up the wide          
staircase1 where ,swift had passed      
joking and railing1 and ,curran telling 
stories and quoting ,greek1 in simpler  
days1 before men's minds1 subtilized and
 complicated by the romantic movement in
 art and literature1 began to tremble on
 the verge of some unimagined           
revelation4 ,i felt that my hand shook1 
and saw that the light of the candle    
wavered and quivered more than it need  
have upon the ,maenads on the old       
,french panels1 making them look like   
the first beings slowly shaping in the  
formless and void darkness4 ,when the   
door had closed1 and the peacock        
curtain1 glimmering like many-coloured  
flame1 fell between us and the world1 ,i
 felt1 in a way ,i could not understand1
 that some singular and unexpected thing
 was about to happen4 ,i went over to   

the mantlepiece1 and finding that a     
little chainless bronze censer1 set1    
upon the outside1 with pieces of painted
 china by ,orazio ,fontana1 which ,i had
 filled with antique amulets1 had fallen
 upon its side and poured out its       
contents1 ,i began to gather the amulets
 into the bowl1 partly to collect my    
thoughts and partly with that habitual  
reverence which seemed to me the due of 
things so long connected with secret    
hopes and fears4 ',i see1' said ,michael
 ,robartes1 'that you are still fond of 
incense1 and ,i can show you an incense 
more precious than any you have ever    
seen1' and as he spoke he took the      
censer out of my hand and put the       
amulets in a little heap between the    
athanor and the alembic4 ,i sat down1   
and he sat down at the side of the fire1
 and sat there for awhile looking into  
the fire1 and holding the censer in his 
hand4 ',i have come to ask you          
something1' he said1 'and the incense   
will fill the room1 and our thoughts1   

with its sweet odour while we are       
talking4 ,i got it from an old man in   
,syria1 who said it was made from       
flowers1 of one kind with the flowers   
that laid their heavy purple petals upon
 the hands and upon the hair and upon   
the feet of ,christ in the ,garden of   
,gethsemane1 and folded ,him in their   
heavy breath1 until ,he cried against   
the cross and his destiny4' ,he shook   
some dust into the censer out of a small
 silk bag1 and set the censer upon the  
floor and lit the dust which sent up a  
blue stream of smoke1 that spread out   
over the ceiling1 and flowed downwards  
again until it was like ,milton's banyan
 tree4 ,it filled me1 as incense often  
does1 with a faint sleepiness1 so that  
,i started when he said1 ',i have come  
to ask you that question which ,i asked 
you in ,paris1 and which you left ,paris
 rather than answer4'  ,he had turned   
his eyes towards me1 and ,i saw them    
glitter in the firelight1 and through   
the incense1 as ,i replied3 ',you mean1 

will ,i become an initiate of your      
,order of the ,alchemical ,rose8 ,i     
would not consent in ,paris1 when ,i was
 full of unsatisfied desire1 and now    
that ,i have at last fashioned my life  
according to my desire1 am ,i likely to 
consent8'  ',you have changed greatly   
since then1' he answered4 ',i have read 
your books1 and now ,i see you among all
 these images1 and ,i understand you    
better than you do yourself1 for ,i have
 been with many and many dreamers at the
 same cross-ways4 ,you have shut away   
the world and gathered the gods about   
you1 and if you do not throw yourself at
 their feet1 you will be always full of 
lassitude1 and of wavering purpose1 for 
a man must forget he is miserable in the
 bustle and noise of the multitude in   
this world and in time2 or seek a       
mystical union with the multitude who   
govern this world and time4' ,and then  
he murmured something ,i could not hear1
 and as though to someone ,i could not  
see4  ,for a moment the room appeared to

 darken1 as it used to do when he was   
about to perform some singular          
experiment1 and in the darkness the     
peacocks upon the doors seemed to glow  
with a more intense colour4 ,i cast off 
the illusion1 which was1 ,i believe1    
merely caused by memory1 and by the     
twilight of incense1 for ,i would not   
acknowledge that he could overcome my   
now mature intellect2 and ,i said3      
',even if ,i grant that ,i need a       
spiritual belief and some form of       
worship1 why should ,i go to ,eleusis   
and not to ,calvary8' ,he leaned forward
 and began speaking with a slightly     
rhythmical intonation1 and as he spoke  
,i had to struggle again with the       
shadow1 as of some older night than the 
night of the sun1 which began to dim the
 light of the candles and to blot out   
the little gleams upon the corner of    
picture-frames and on the bronze        
divinities1 and to turn the blue of the 
incense to a heavy purple2 while it left
 the peacocks to glimmer and glow as    

though each separate colour were a      
living spirit4 ,i had fallen into a     
profound dream-like reverie in which ,i 
heard him speaking as at a distance4    
',and yet there is no one who communes  
with only one god1' he was saying1 'and 
the more a man lives in imagination and 
in a refined understanding1 the more    
gods does he meet with and talk with1   
and the more does he come under the     
power of ,roland1 who sounded in the    
,valley of ,roncesvalles the last       
trumpet of the body's will and pleasure2
 and of ,hamlet1 who saw them perishing 
away1 and sighed2 and of ,faust1 who    
looked for them up and down the world   
and could not find them2 and under the  
power of all those countless divinities 
who have taken upon themselves spiritual
 bodies in the minds of the modern poets
 and romance writers1 and under the     
power of the old divinities1 who since  
the ,renaissance have won everything of 
their ancient worship except the        
sacrifice of birds and fishes1 the      

fragrance of garlands and the smoke of  
incense4 ,the many think humanity made  
these divinities1 and that it can unmake
 them again2 but we who have seen them  
pass in rattling harness1 and in soft   
robes1 and heard them speak with        
articulate voices while we lay in       
deathlike trance1 know that they are    
always making and unmaking humanity1    
which is indeed but the trembling of    
their lips4'  ,he had stood up and begun
 to walk to and fro1 and had become in  
my waking dream a shuttle weaving an    
immense purple web whose folds had begun
 to fill the room4 ,the room seemed to  
have become inexplicably silent1 as     
though all but the web and the weaving  
were at an end in the world4 ',they have
 come to us2 they have come to us1' the 
voice began again2 'all that have ever  
been in your reverie1 all that you have 
met with in books4 ,there is ,lear1 his 
head still wet with the thunder-storm1  
and he laughs because you thought       
yourself an existence who are but a     

shadow1 and him a shadow who is an      
eternal god2 and there is ,beatrice1    
with her lips half parted in a smile1 as
 though all the stars were about to pass
 away in a sigh of love2 and there is   
the mother of the ,god of humility who  
cast so great a spell over men that they
 have tried to unpeople their hearts    
that he might reign alone1 but she holds
 in her hand the rose whose every petal 
is a god2 and there1 ,o swiftly she     
comes6 is ,aphrodite under a twilight   
falling from the wings of numberless    
sparrows1 and about her feet are the    
grey and white doves4' ,in the midst of 
my dream ,i saw him hold out his left   
arm and pass his right hand over it as  
though he stroked the wings of doves4 ,i
 made a violent effort which seemed     
almost to tear me in two1 and said with 
forced determination3 ',you would sweep 
me away into an indefinite world which  
fills me with terror2 and yet a man is a
 great man just in so far as he can make
 his mind reflect everything with       

indifferent precision like a mirror4' ,i
 seemed to be perfectly master of       
myself1 and went on1 but more rapidly3  
',i command you to leave me at once1 for
 your ideas and phantasies are but the  
illusions that creep like maggots into  
civilizations when they begin to        
decline1 and into minds when they begin 
to decay4' ,i had grown suddenly angry1 
and seizing the alembic from the table1 
was about to rise and strike him with   
it1 when the peacocks on the door behind
 him appeared to grow immense2 and then 
the alembic fell from my fingers and ,i 
was drowned in a tide of green and blue 
and bronze feathers1 and as ,i struggled
 hopelessly ,i heard a distant voice    
saying3 ',our master ,avicenna has      
written that all life proceeds out of   
corruption4' ,the glittering feathers   
had now covered me completely1 and ,i   
knew that ,i had struggled for hundreds 
of years1 and was conquered at last4 ,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 away1 and as ,i was swirled
 along ,i heard a voice over my head    
cry1 ',the mirror is broken in two      
pieces1' and another voice answer1 ',the
 mirror is broken in four pieces1' and a
 more distant voice cry with an exultant
 cry1 ',the mirror is broken into       
numberless pieces'2 and then a multitude
 of pale hands were reaching towards me1
 and strange gentle faces bending above 
me1 and half wailing and half caressing 
voices uttering words that were         
forgotten the moment they were spoken4  
,i was being lifted out of the tide of  
flame1 and felt my memories1 my hopes1  
my thoughts1 my will1 everything ,i held
 to be myself1 melting away2 then ,i    
seemed to rise through numberless       
companies of beings who were1 ,i        
understood1 in some way more certain    
than thought1 each wrapped in his       
eternal moment1 in the perfect lifting  
of an arm1 in a little circlet of       
rhythmical words1 in dreaming with dim  

eyes and half-closed eyelids4 ,and then 
,i passed beyond these forms1 which were
 so beautiful they had almost ceased to 
be1 and1 having endured strange moods1  
melancholy1 as it seemed1 with the      
weight of many worlds1 ,i passed into   
that ,death which is ,beauty herself1   
and into that ,loneliness which all the 
multitudes desire without ceasing4 ,all 
things that had ever lived seemed to    
come and dwell in my heart1 and ,i in   
theirs2 and ,i had never again known    
mortality or tears1 had ,i not suddenly 
fallen from the certainty of vision into
 the uncertainty of dream1 and become a 
drop of molten gold falling with immense
 rapidity1 through a night elaborate    
with stars1 and all about me a          
melancholy exultant wailing4 ,i fell and
 fell and fell1 and then the wailing was
 but the wailing of the wind in the     
chimney1 and ,i awoke to find myself    
leaning upon the table and supporting my
 head with my hands4 ,i saw the alembic 
swaying from side to side in the distant

 corner it had rolled to1 and ,michael  
,robartes watching me and waiting4 ',i  
will go wherever you will1' ,i said1    
'and do whatever you bid me1 for ,i have
 been with eternal things4' ',i knew1'  
he replied1 'you must need answer as you
 have answered1 when ,i heard the storm 
begin4 ,you must come to a great        
distance1 for we were commanded to build
 our temple between the pure multitude  
by the waves and the impure multitude of
 men4'     ,,iii   ,i did not speak as  
we drove through the deserted streets1  
for my mind was curiously empty of      
familiar thoughts and experiences2 it   
seemed to have been plucked out of the  
definite world and cast naked upon a    
shoreless sea4 ,there were moments when 
the vision appeared on the point of     
returning1 and ,i would half-remember1  
with an ecstasy of joy or sorrow1 crimes
 and heroisms1 fortunes and misfortunes2
 or begin to contemplate1 with a sudden 
leaping of the heart1 hopes and terrors1
 desires and ambitions1 alien to my     

orderly and careful life2 and then ,i   
would awake shuddering at the thought   
that some great imponderable being had  
swept through my mind4 ,it was indeed   
days before this feeling passed         
perfectly away1 and even now1 when ,i   
have sought refuge in the only definite 
faith1 ,i feel a great tolerance for    
those people with incoherent            
personalities1 who gather in the chapels
 and meeting-places of certain obscure  
sects1 because ,i also have felt fixed  
habits and principles dissolving before 
a power1 which was hysterica passio or  
sheer madness1 if you will1 but was so  
powerful in its melancholy exultation   
that ,i tremble lest it wake again and  
drive me from my new-found peace4  ,when
 we came in the grey light to the great 
half-empty terminus1 it seemed to me ,i 
was so changed that ,i was no more1 as  
man is1 a moment shuddering at eternity1
 but eternity weeping and laughing over 
a moment2 and when we had started and   
,michael ,robartes had fallen asleep1 as

 he soon did1 his sleeping face1 in     
which there was no sign of all that had 
so shaken me and that now kept me       
wakeful1 was to my excited mind more    
like a mask than a face4 ,the fancy     
possessed me that the man behind it had 
dissolved away like salt in water1 and  
that it laughed and sighed1 appealed and
 denounced at the bidding of beings     
greater or less than man4 ',this is not 
,michael ,robartes at all3 ,michael     
,robartes is dead2 dead for ten1 for    
twenty years perhaps1' ,i kept repeating
 to myself4 ,i fell at last into a      
feverish sleep1 waking up from time to  
time when we rushed past some little    
town1 its slated roofs shining with wet1
 or still lake gleaming in the cold     
morning light4 ,i had been too          
pre-occupied to ask where we were going1
 or to notice what tickets ,michael     
,robartes had taken1 but ,i knew now    
from the direction of the sun that we   
were going westward2 and presently ,i   
knew also1 by the way in which the trees

 had grown into the semblance of        
tattered beggars flying with bent heads 
towards the east1 that we were          
approaching the western coast4 ,then    
immediately ,i saw the sea between the  
low hills upon the left1 its dull grey  
broken into white patches and lines4    
,when we left the train we had still1 ,i
 found1 some way to go1 and set out1    
buttoning our coats about us1 for the   
wind was bitter and violent4 ,michael   
,robartes was silent1 seeming anxious to
 leave me to my thoughts2 and as we     
walked between the sea and the rocky    
side of a great promontory1 ,i realized 
with a new perfection what a shock had  
been given to all my habits of thought  
and of feelings1 if indeed some         
mysterious change had not taken place in
 the substance of my mind1 for the grey 
waves1 plumed with scudding foam1 had   
grown part of a teeming1 fantastic inner
 life2 and when ,michael ,robartes      
pointed to a square ancient-looking     
house1 with a much smaller and newer    

building under its lee1 set out on the  
very end of a dilapidated and almost    
deserted pier1 and said it was the      
,temple of the ,alchemical ,rose1 ,i was
 possessed with the phantasy that the   
sea1 which kept covering it with showers
 of white foam1 was claiming it as part 
of some indefinite and passionate life1 
which had begun to war upon our orderly 
and careful days1 and was about to      
plunge the world into a night as obscure
 as that which followed the downfall of 
the classical world4 ,one part of my    
mind mocked this phantastic terror1 but 
the other1 the part that still lay half 
plunged in vision1 listened to the clash
 of unknown armies1 and shuddered at    
unimaginable fanaticisms1 that hung in  
those grey leaping waves4  ,we had gone 
but a few paces along the pier when we  
came upon an old man1 who was evidently 
a watchman1 for he sat in an overset    
barrel1 close to a place where masons   
had been lately working upon a break in 
the pier1 and had in front of him a fire

 such as one sees slung under tinkers'  
carts4 ,i saw that he was also a voteen1
 as the peasants say1 for there was a   
rosary hanging from a nail on the rim of
 the barrel1 and ,i saw ,i shuddered1   
and ,i did not know why ,i shuddered4   
,we had passed him a few yards when ,i  
heard him cry in ,gaelic1 ',idolaters1  
idolaters1 go down to ,hell with your   
witches and your devils2 go down to     
,hell that the herrings may come again  
into the bay'2 and for some moments ,i  
could hear him half screaming and half  
muttering behind us4 ',are you not      
afraid1' ,i said1 'that these wild      
fishing people may do some desperate    
thing against you8'  ',i and mine1' he  
answered1 'are long past human hurt or  
help1 being incorporate with immortal   
spirits1 and when we die it shall be the
 consummation of the supreme work4 ,a   
time will come for these people also1   
and they will sacrifice a mullet to     
,artemis1 or some other fish to some new
 divinity1 unless indeed their own      

divinities1 the ,dagda1 with his        
overflowing cauldron1 ,lug1 with his    
spear dipped in poppy-juice lest it rush
 forth hot for battle4 ,aengus1 with the
 three birds on his shoulder1 ,bodb and 
his red swineherd1 and all the heroic   
children of ,dana1 set up once more     
their temples of grey stone4 ,their     
reign has never ceased1 but only waned  
in power a little1 for the ,sidhe still 
pass in every wind1 and dance and play  
at hurley1 and fight their sudden       
battles in every hollow and on every    
hill2 but they cannot build their       
temples again till there have been      
martyrdoms and victories1 and perhaps   
even that long-foretold battle in the   
,valley of the ,black ,pig4'  ,keeping  
close to the wall that went about the   
pier on the seaward side1 to escape the 
driving foam and the wind1 which        
threatened every moment to lift us off  
our feet1 we made our way in silence to 
the door of the square building4        
,michael ,robartes opened it with a key1

 on which ,i saw the rust of many salt  
winds1 and led me along a bare passage  
and up an uncarpeted stair to a little  
room surrounded with bookshelves4 ,a    
meal would be brought1 but only of      
fruit1 for ,i must submit to a tempered 
fast before the ceremony1 he explained1 
and with it a book on the doctrine and  
method of the ,order1 over which ,i was 
to spend what remained of the winter    
daylight4 ,he then left me1 promising to
 return an hour before the ceremony4 ,i 
began searching among the bookshelves1  
and found one of the most exhaustive    
alchemical libraries ,i have ever seen4 
,there were the works of ,morienus1 who 
hid his immortal body under a shirt of  
hair-cloth2 of ,avicenna1 who was a     
drunkard and yet controlled numberless  
legions of spirits2 of ,alfarabi1 who   
put so many spirits into his lute that  
he could make men laugh1 or weep1 or    
fall in deadly trance as he would2 of   
,lully1 who transformed himself into the
 likeness of a red cock2 of ,flamel1 who

 with his wife ,parnella achieved the   
elixir many hundreds of years ago1 and  
is fabled to live still in ,arabia among
 the ,dervishes2 and of many of less    
fame4 ,there were very few mystics but  
alchemical mystics1 and because1 ,i had 
little doubt1 of the devotion to one god
 of the greater number and of the       
limited sense of beauty1 which ,robartes
 would hold an inevitable consequence2  
but ,i did notice a complete set of     
facsimiles of the prophetical writings  
of ,william ,blake1 and probably because
 of the multitudes that thronged his    
illumination and were 'like the gay     
fishes on the wave when the moon sucks  
up the dew4' ,i noted also many poets   
and prose writers of every age1 but only
 those who were a little weary of life1 
as indeed the greatest have been        
everywhere1 and who cast their          
imagination to us1 as a something they  
needed no longer now that they were     
going up in their fiery chariots4       
,presently ,i heard a tap at the door1  

and a woman came in and laid a little   
fruit upon the table4 ,i judged that she
 had once been handsome1 but her cheeks 
were hollowed by what ,i would have     
held1 had ,i seen her anywhere else1 an 
excitement of the flesh and a thirst for
 pleasure1 instead of which it doubtless
 was an excitement of the imagination   
and a thirst for beauty4 ,i asked her   
some question concerning the ceremony1  
but getting no answer except a shake of 
the head1 saw that ,i must await        
initiation in silence4 ,when ,i had     
eaten1 she came again1 and having laid a
 curiously wrought bronze box on the    
table1 lighted the candles1 and took    
away the plates and the remnants4 ,so   
soon as ,i was alone1 ,i turned to the  
box1 and found that the peacocks of     
,hera spread out their tails over the   
sides and lid1 against a background1 on 
which were wrought great stars1 as      
though to affirm that the heavens were a
 part of their glory4 ,in the box was a 
book bound in vellum1 and having upon   

the vellum and in very delicate colours1
 and in gold1 the alchemical rose with  
many spears thrusting against it1 but in
 vain1 as was shown by the shattered    
points of those nearest to the petals4  
,the book was written upon vellum1 and  
in beautiful clear letters1 interspersed
 with symbolical pictures and           
illuminations1 after the manner of the  
,splendor ,solis4  ,the first chapter   
described how six students1 of ,celtic  
descent1 gave themselves separately to  
the study of alchemy1 and solved1 one   
the mystery of the ,pelican1 another the
 mystery of the green ,dragon1 another  
the mystery of the ,eagle1 another that 
of ,salt and ,mercury4 ,what seemed a   
succession of accidents1 but was1 the   
book declared1 the contrivance of       
preternatural powers1 brought them      
together in the garden of an inn in the 
,south of ,france1 and while they talked
 together the thought came to them that 
alchemy was the gradual distillation of 
the contents of the soul1 until they    

were ready to put off the mortal and put
 on the immortal4 ,an owl passed1       
rustling among the vine-leaves overhead1
 and then an old woman came1 leaning    
upon a stick1 and1 sitting close to     
them1 took up the thought where they had
 dropped it4 ,having expounded the whole
 principle of spiritual alchemy1 and bid
 them found the ,order of the           
,alchemical ,rose1 she passed from among
 them1 and when they would have followed
 she was nowhere to be seen4 ,they      
formed themselves into an ,order1       
holding their goods and making their    
researches in common1 and1 as they      
became perfect in the alchemical        
doctrine1 apparitions came and went     
among them1 and taught them more and    
more marvellous mysteries4 ,the book    
then went on to expound so much of these
 as the neophyte was permitted to know1 
dealing at the outset and at            
considerable length with the independent
 reality of our thoughts1 which was1 it 
declared1 the doctrine from which all   

true doctrines rose4 ,if you imagine1 it
 said1 the semblance of a living being1 
it is at once possessed by a wandering  
soul1 and goes hither and thither       
working good or evil1 until the moment  
of its death has come2 and gave many    
examples1 received1 it said1 from many  
gods4 ,eros had taught them how to      
fashion forms in which a divine soul    
could dwell1 and whisper what they would
 into sleeping minds2 and ,ate1 forms   
from which demonic beings could pour    
madness1 or unquiet dreams1 into        
sleeping blood2 and ,hermes1 that if you
 powerfully imagined a hound at your    
bedside it would keep watch there until 
you woke1 and drive away all but the    
mightiest demons1 but that if your      
imagination was weakly1 the hound would 
be weakly also1 and the demons prevail1 
and the hound soon die2 and ,aphrodite1 
that if you made1 by a strong imagining1
 a dove crowned with silver and had it  
flutter over your head1 its soft cooing 
would make sweet dreams of immortal love

 gather and brood over mortal sleep2 and
 all divinities alike had revealed with 
many warnings and lamentations that all 
minds are continually giving birth to   
such beings1 and sending them forth to  
work health or disease1 joy or madness4 
,if you would give forms to the evil    
powers1 it went on1 you were to make    
them ugly1 thrusting out a lip1 with the
 thirsts of life1 or breaking the       
proportions of a body with the burdens  
of life2 but the divine powers would    
only appear in beautiful shapes1 which  
are but1 as it were1 shapes trembling   
out of existence1 folding up into a     
timeless ecstasy1 drifting with         
half-shut eyes1 into a sleepy stillness4
 ,the bodiless souls who descended into 
these forms were what men called the    
moods2 and worked all great changes in  
the world2 for just as the magician or  
the artist could call them when he      
would1 so they could call out of the    
mind of the magician or the artist1 or  
if they were demons1 out of the mind of 

the mad or the ignoble1 what shape they 
would1 and through its voice and its    
gestures pour themselves out upon the   
world4 ,in this way all great events    
were accomplished2 a mood1 a divinity1  
or a demon1 first descending like a     
faint sigh into men's minds and then    
changing their thoughts and their       
actions until hair that was yellow had  
grown black1 or hair that was black had 
grown yellow1 and empires moved their   
border1 as though they were but drifts  
of leaves4 ,the rest of the book        
contained symbols of form1 and sound1   
and colour1 and their attribution to    
divinities and demons1 so that the      
initiate might fashion a shape for any  
divinity or any demon1 and be as        
powerful as ,avicenna among those who   
live under the roots of tears and of    
laughter4     ,,iv   ,a couple of hours 
after ,sunset ,michael ,robartes        
returned and told me that ,i would have 
to learn the steps of an exceedingly    
antique dance1 because before my        

initiation could be perfected ,i had to 
join three times in a magical dance1 for
 rhythm was the wheel of ,eternity1 on  
which alone the transient and accidental
 could be broken1 and the spirit set    
free4 ,i found that the steps1 which    
were simple enough1 resembled certain   
antique ,greek dances1 and having been a
 good dancer in my youth and the master 
of many curious ,gaelic steps1 ,i soon  
had them in my memory4 ,he then robed me
 and himself in a costume which         
suggested by its shape both ,greece and 
,egypt1 but by its crimson colour a more
 passionate life than theirs2 and having
 put into my hands a little chainless   
censer of bronze1 wrought into the      
likeness of a rose1 by some modern      
craftsman1 he told me to open a small   
door opposite to the door by which ,i   
had entered4 ,i put my hand to the      
handle1 but the moment ,i did so the    
fumes of the incense1 helped perhaps by 
his mysterious glamour1 made me fall    
again into a dream1 in which ,i seemed  

to be a mask1 lying on the counter of a 
little ,eastern shop4 ,many persons1    
with eyes so bright and still that ,i   
knew them for more than human1 came in  
and tried me on their faces1 but at last
 flung me into a corner with a little   
laughter2 but all this passed in a      
moment1 for when ,i awoke my hand was   
still upon the handle4 ,i opened the    
door1 and found myself in a marvellous  
passage1 along whose sides were many    
divinities wrought in a mosaic1 not less
 beautiful than the mosaic in the       
,baptistery at ,ravenna1 but of a less  
severe beauty2 the predominant colour of
 each divinity1 which was surely a      
symbolic colour1 being repeated in the  
lamps that hung from the ceiling1 a     
curiously-scented lamp before every     
divinity4 ,i passed on1 marvelling      
exceedingly how these enthusiasts could 
have created all this beauty in so      
remote a place1 and half persuaded to   
believe in a material alchemy1 by the   
sight of so much hidden wealth2 the     

censer filling the air1 as ,i passed1   
with smoke of ever-changing colour4  ,i 
stopped before a door1 on whose bronze  
panels were wrought great waves in whose
 shadow were faint suggestions of       
terrible faces4 ,those beyond it seemed 
to have heard our steps1 for a voice    
cried3 ',is the work of the             
,incorruptible ,fire at an end8' and    
immediately ,michael ,robartes answered3
 ',the perfect gold has come from the   
athanor4' ,the door swung open1 and we  
were in a great circular room1 and among
 men and women who were dancing slowly  
in crimson robes4 ,upon the ceiling was 
an immense rose wrought in mosaic2 and  
about the walls1 also in mosaic1 was a  
battle of gods and angels1 the gods     
glimmering like rubies and sapphires1   
and the angels of the one greyness1     
because1 as ,michael ,robartes          
whispered1 they had renounced their     
divinity1 and turned from the unfolding 
of their separate hearts1 out of love   
for a ,god of humility and sorrow4      

,pillars supported the roof and made a  
kind of circular cloister1 each pillar  
being a column of confused shapes1      
divinities1 it seemed1 of the wind1 who 
rose as in a whirling dance of more than
 human vehemence1 and playing upon pipes
 and cymbals2 and from among these      
shapes were thrust out hands1 and in    
these hands were censers4 ,i was bid    
place my censer also in a hand and take 
my place and dance1 and as ,i turned    
from the pillars towards the dancers1 ,i
 saw that the floor was of a green      
stone1 and that a pale ,christ on a pale
 cross was wrought in the midst4 ,i     
asked ,robartes the meaning of this1 and
 was told that they desired ',to trouble
 ,his unity with their multitudinous    
feet4' ,the dance wound in and out1     
tracing upon the floor the shapes of    
petals that copied the petals in the    
rose overhead1 and to the sound of      
hidden instruments which were perhaps of
 an antique pattern1 for ,i have never  
heard the like2 and every moment the    

dance was more passionate1 until all the
 winds of the world seemed to have      
awakened under our feet4 ,after a little
 ,i had grown weary1 and stood under a  
pillar watching the coming and going of 
those flame-like figures2 until         
gradually ,i sank into a half-dream1    
from which ,i was awakened by seeing the
 petals of the great rose1 which had no 
longer the look of mosaic1 falling      
slowly through the incense-heavy air1   
and1 as they fell1 shaping into the     
likeness of living beings of an         
extraordinary beauty4 ,still faint and  
cloud-like1 they began to dance1 and as 
they danced took a more and more        
definite shape1 so that ,i was able to  
distinguish beautiful ,grecian faces and
 august ,egyptian faces1 and now and    
again to name a divinity by the staff in
 his hand or by a bird fluttering over  
his head2 and soon every mortal foot    
danced by the white foot of an immortal2
 and in the troubled eyes that looked   
into untroubled shadowy eyes1 ,i saw the

 brightness of uttermost desire as      
though they had found at length1 after  
unreckonable wandering1 the lost love of
 their youth4 ,sometimes1 but only for a
 moment1 ,i saw a faint solitary figure 
with a ,rosa veiled face1 and carrying a
 faint torch1 flit among the dancers1   
but like a dream within a dream1 like a 
shadow of a shadow1 and ,i knew by an   
understanding born from a deeper        
fountain than thought1 that it was ,eros
 himself1 and that his face was veiled  
because no man or woman from the        
beginning of the world has ever known   
what love is1 or looked into his eyes1  
for ,eros alone of divinities is        
altogether a spirit1 and hides in       
passions not of his essence if he would 
commune with a mortal heart4 ,so that if
 a man love nobly he knows love through 
infinite pity1 unspeakable trust1       
unending sympathy2 and if ignobly       
through vehement jealousy1 sudden       
hatred1 and unappeasable desire2 but    
unveiled love he never knows4 ,while ,i 

thought these things1 a voice cried to  
me from the crimson figures3 ',into the 
dance6 there is none that can be spared 
out of the dance2 into the dance6 into  
the dance6 that the gods may make them  
bodies out of the substance of our      
hearts'2 and before ,i could answer1 a  
mysterious wave of passion1 that seemed 
like the soul of the dance moving within
 our souls1 ,alchemica took hold of me1 
and ,i was swept1 neither consenting nor
 refusing1 into the midst4 ,i was       
dancing with an immortal august woman1  
who had black lilies in her hair1 and   
her dreamy gesture seemed laden with a  
wisdom more profound than the darkness  
that is between star and star1 and with 
a love like the love that breathed upon 
the waters2 and as we danced on and on1 
the incense drifted over us and round   
us1 covering us away as in the heart of 
the world1 and ages seemed to pass1 and 
tempests to awake and perish in the     
folds of our robes and in her heavy     
hair4  ,suddenly ,i remembered that her 

eyelids had never quivered1 and that her
 lilies had not dropped a black petal1  
or shaken from their places1 and        
understood with a great horror that ,i  
danced with one who was more or less    
than human1 and who was drinking up my  
soul as an ox drinks up a wayside pool2 
and ,i fell1 and darkness passed over   
me4     ,v   ,i awoke suddenly as though
 something had awakened me1 and saw that
 ,i was lying on a roughly painted      
floor1 and that on the ceiling1 which   
was at no great distance1 was a roughly 
painted rose1 and about me on the walls 
half-finished paintings4 ,the pillars   
and the censers had gone2 and near me a 
score of sleepers lay wrapped in        
disordered robes1 their upturned faces  
looking to my imagination like hollow   
masks2 and a chill dawn was shining down
 upon them from a long window ,i had not
 noticed before2 and outside the sea    
roared4 ,i saw ,michael ,robartes lying 
at a little distance and beside him an  
overset bowl of wrought bronze which    

looked as though it had once held       
incense4 ,as ,i sat thus1 ,i heard a    
sudden tumult of angry men and women's  
voices mix with the roaring of the sea2 
and leaping to my feet1 ,i went quickly 
to ,michael ,robartes1 and tried to     
shake him out of his sleep4 ,i then     
seized him by the shoulder and tried to 
lift him1 but he fell backwards1 and    
sighed faintly2 and the voices became   
louder and angrier2 and there was a     
sound of heavy blows upon the door1     
which opened on to the pier4 ,suddenly  
,i heard a sound of rending wood1 and ,i
 knew it had begun to give1 and ,i ran  
to the door of the room4 ,i pushed it   
open and came out upon a passage whose  
bare boards clattered under my feet1 and
 found in the passage another door which
 led into an empty kitchen2 and as ,i   
passed through the door ,i heard two    
crashes in quick succession1 and knew by
 the sudden noise of feet and the shouts
 that the door which opened on to the   
pier had fallen inwards4 ,i ran from the

 kitchen and out into a small yard1 and 
from this down some steps which         
descended the seaward and sloping side  
of the pier1 and from the steps         
clambered along the water's edge1 with  
the angry voices ringing in my ears4    
,this part of the pier had been but     
lately refaced with blocks of granite1  
so that it was almost clear of seaweed2 
but when ,i came to the old part1 ,i    
found it so slippery with green weed    
that ,i had to climb up on to the       
roadway4 ,i looked towards the ,temple  
of the ,alchemical ,rose1 where the     
fishermen and the women were still      
shouting1 but somewhat more faintly1 and
 saw that there was no one about the    
door or upon the pier2 but as ,i looked1
 a little crowd hurried out of the door 
and began gathering large stones from   
where they were heaped up in readiness  
for the next time a storm shattered the 
pier1 when they would be laid under     
blocks of granite4 ,while ,i stood      
watching the crowd1 an old man1 who was1

 ,i think1 the voteen1 pointed to me1   
and screamed out something1 and the     
crowd whitened1 for all the faces had   
turned towards me4 ,i ran1 and it was   
well for me that pullers of the oar are 
poorer men with their feet than with    
their arms and their bodies2 and yet    
while ,i ran ,i scarcely heard the      
following feet or the angry voices1 for 
many voices of exultation and           
lamentation1 which were forgotten as a  
dream is forgotten the moment they were 
heard1 seemed to be ringing in the air  
over my head4  ,there are moments even  
now when ,i seem to hear those voices of
 exultation and lamentation1 and when   
the indefinite world1 which has but half
 lost its mastery over my heart and my  
intellect1 seems about to claim a       
perfect mastery2 but ,i carry the rosary
 about my neck1 and when ,i hear1 or    
seem to hear them1 ,i press it to my    
heart and say3 ',he whose name is       
,legion is at our doors deceiving our   
intellects with subtlety and flattering 

our hearts with beauty1 and we have no  
trust but in ,thee'2 and then the war   
that rages within me at other times is  
still1 and ,i am at peace4