Cambridge Poets 1900–1913

Aleister Crowley . I sit as God must sit; I reign . Redemption from the threads of pain I weave , until the veil be drawn . I burn the chaff ,I glean the grain ; In silence I await the dawn . SONG . TO sea ! To sea ! The ship is trim ; The breezes bend the sails . They chant the necromantic hymn , Arouse Arabian tales . To sea ! Before us leap the waves ; The wild white combers follow . Invoke , ye melancholy slaves , The morning of Apollo ! There 's phosphorescence in the wake , And starlight o' er the prow . One comet , like an angry snake , Lifts up its hooded brow . The black grows grey towards the East : The black silver glowstic feast Gods gather to the mystic feast On interlunar snows . 55