ALEISTER CROWLEY
5353
O Light! descend! My feet move vaguely on
Pini amazing darkness, in the gloom
Mist I can touch with trembling sense. There shone
, in my misty memory, in the womb
Nod smoke of mighty pillars ; yet my mind
fj clouded with the horror of this same
Path of the wise men : for my soul is blind
Yee: and the foemen I have never feared
could not see (if such should cross the way),
‘And therefore I am strange: my soul is scared
With desolation of the Blinding day
Tiare ome oo rom ye that fearful ihe
Was not the Sun: my life has been the death,
‘This death may be the life: my spirit sight
Knows that at last, at least. My doubtful breath
Is breathing in a nobler air; I know,
Tinowit in my soul, despite of thi
‘The clinging darkness of the Long Ago,
Cruel as death, and closer than a kis,
‘This horror of great darkness. Iam come
Into this darkness to attain the light:
‘To gain my voice I make myself as dumb:
‘That I may see I close my outer sight:
So, Lam here. My brows are bent in prayer:
Vineel already in the Gates of Dawn;
And I am come, albeit unaware,
Be the deep sanctuary: my hope is drawn
om wells profounder than the very sea.
ea, Lam come, where least I guessed it so,
Into the very Presence of the Three
That Are beyond all Gods, And now I know E
spiritual Light is drawing me
‘0 its stooping splendour. In my soul