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- THE MOUNTAIN TOMB
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- POUR wine and dance if manhood still have pride,
- Bring roses if the rose be yet in bloom;
- The cataract smokes upon the mountain side,
- Our Father Rosicross is in his tomb.
- Pull down the blinds, bring fiddle and clarionet
- That there be no foot silent in the room
- Nor mouth from kissing, nor from wine unwet;
- Our Father Rosicross is in his tomb.
- In vain, in pain; the cataract still cries;
- The everlasting taper lights the gloom;
- All wisdom shut into his onyx eyes,
- Our Father Rosicross sleeps in his tomb.
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