The Mountain Tomb

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.