The Of old the whole group was called Aldebaran, 

 Rainy Du t nQ w we recognise in that name only the 

 superb star whose pale-rose flame lights 

 gloriously 'the cold forehead of the wintry 

 sky' to quote an undeservedly forgotten 

 poet. And now, Aldebaran stands apart in 

 Taurus, and the six storm -stars are torches 

 set apart. 



Well, the Season of the Rainy Hyades has 

 come. The Water-Pourer, the Whale and 

 swift Dolphin, Pisces (' Leaders of the 

 Celestial Host ' and 'the Diadem of November'), 

 Hydra the Water-Snake, every Rain-Star, from 

 flashing Corona, Bride of the White Hawk, 

 to the far southern torch of splendid Achernar 

 in Eridanus the Celestial River, all have lent 

 the subtle influences of the first of the 

 Elements, Water. In the mystic's language, 

 we are now in the season when the soul may 

 least confusedly look into its life as in a shaken 

 mirror, and when the spirit may 'look before 

 and after.' For, they tell us, in the occult 

 sense, we are the Children of Water. 



To-night, looking at the Hyades, dimmed 

 in a vaporous haze foretelling coming storm, 

 as yet afar off, I find myself, I know not why, 

 and in a despondency come I know not 

 whence, thinking of and repeating words I 

 read to-day in a translation of the Bhagavad 



