" (W.B.Yeats, Frater D.E.D.I.) In Arcadia ego How fast the years did go And how bitter is the wind Blowing from shores of Arcady Outside these walls The
Father Rosicross sleeps in his tomb" In Arcadia ego / How fast the years did go / And how bitter is the wind / Blowing from shores of Arcady And
Our Father Rosicross sleeps in his tomb" In Arcadia ego / How fast the years did go / And how bitter is the wind / Blowing from shores of Arcady And