Collected Works (Vol. I)

SONGS OF THE SPIRIT 34 From dusk to dawn, being poor ; and braided up The loose hair of all trees and flowers, and made Their one white light divide to red and green And violet! and the hues innumerable Lesser than these, and gave man hope at last With the invariable law of death Abundant in new life, and having filled The world with music, dost demand of us ‘Is my work meaningless?” O thou, supreme, Thou, First and Last, most inconceivable All-radiating Unity, thou sphere All-comprehensive, all-mysterious, Spirit of Life and Death, bow down and hear ! [Bends deeper and prays silently. The flame grows duller, and finally leaves the room in ab- solute darkness. Curtazz. SONNETS TO NIGHT. I. O NIGHT ! the very mother of us all, For from thy hollow womb we children came, A little space to flicker as a flame, And then within thy tender arms to fall Tired, fain of nothing but to lie at last Upon thy bosom, and gaze in thine eyes Clear, calm, dispassionate, supremely wise, And pass with thee the gates that must be passed.” O Night, on thee is set our only hope, Because our eyes, too tender for the day, Are dazed with sunlight, and poor fingers grope For those far truths that mock our vague en- deavour, 1 Chosen in accordance with the theory of Young and Helmholz. 2 Compare this octet with that of the ‘*Sonnet to Sleep” of P. B. Marston, which Crowley had not at this time read. Whilst we may find in thee the secrets grey Of all things God would fain have hid for ever. IT, All things grow still before thine awful face. Now fails the lover’s sigh; Sleep’s angel clings About the children with her dreamy wings, And all the world is silent for a space. The waving of thy dusky plumes in heaven Alone breathes gentle music to mine ears, So that despair is fain to flee, and fear Cowers far away amid the shades of even. ‘* Hope,” is thy whisper, ‘‘ hope, and trust in Night; My realm is the eternal, and my power The absolute. My child, gird on thy strength 5 Clothe limbs with lustiness, and mind- with might, That, communing with me, though for an hour, Thou mayest conquer when day comes at length.” THE PHILOSOPHER’S PROGRESS. That which ts aboue, ts Vike that whitch ts below ; and that which ts below, ts like that which ts above. HERMES TRISMEGISTUS. THAT which is highest as the deep Is fixed, the depth as that above : Death’s face is as the face of Sleep ; And Lust is likest Love. So stand the angels one by one Higher and higher with lamps of gold : So stand the shining devils ; none Their brightness may behold.