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Page 1 of 41913 · PDF PAGE 234
…ore green ; The day is past, and love and life are fled: Out from my window in the night I lean To hear the waiting ghosts of hours long dead. But, being dead, they dwell at rest in me, Turned into song by love’s strange alchemy. Wherefore I sing of things long past and dead; Wherefore I murmur foolishly in sleep; The old, old pain still throbbing through my head In dreams of desert valleys, mountains steep, With winding paths ; hot suns and scorching plains. There is a fire unquenched within my brains. Because I sing in unknown cadences, Becau…
1913 · PDF PAGE 186
…, Ask of the murmuring sea, Or of the silent stars that roll so ceaselessly, Where he be fled,— It is enough ; one word is enough: he is dead. Rose! Ever-virgin Rose of the pulsing world, Whereover are thy petals curled,— It is for me alone to sing of thee, It is for me alone. Yea! let my songs of thy fame Be as flame, That shall enhance, maybe, The liberty Of one.— If one alone shall say : “It is not dead, the day, Not utterly dead while one man sings, Having been brushed by the morning’s wings,” It shall suffice For him ; and as for thee, Tho…
1913 · PDF PAGE 518
…it, created spirits would lose themselves in the infinite, and from lack of the power to concentrate themselves somewhere, they would be dead and impotent everywhere, lost as they would be in the immensity of God. All created spirits have, then, bodies, some subtler, some grosser, according to the surroundings in which they are called to live. The soul of a dead man would, then, not be able to live in the atmosphere of the living, any more than we can live in earth or in water. For an airy, or rather an ethereal, spirit, it would be necessary t…
1913 · PDF PAGE 179
…! nimble feet Grown old! Oh! autumn woodlands fraught With pensiveness of waking thought! The gray night gathers, soft and cold, The old dead dreams, dead dreams of old,— The cold, gray, windy breath of time, The old dead loves, the unsung rime : Autumn, the pale, gray, crispéd star, Virginal, golden nenuphar, Folden upon itself to sleep, To sleep and die, to wake and weep Soft silver tears of old desire. O molten silver of my lyre, Transmute, transmute my autumn dream, Transmute the winding star-lit stream To the stream of olden grace and love…
1913 · PDF PAGE 215
… of spring lie cold on the hearth of day. Gray dreams again! And all my hope is fled. Gray dreams! gray dreams! and the day is tired and dead. The bitter aftermath of summer brings Time’s memory back to the world: there are no stings In the world’s pain, but only bitterness Of the memory of Time; no sore distress, Save for the thought of Summer waned and dead, And faded with the gold skies overhead, And the young green beneath; ah! secret Rose! Here from the heart of the woods I pluck thee forth, Fragrant with the smell of summer, crimson-brigh…
1913 · PDF PAGE 192
…, thee too, And round thee all the blue Of the skies is blackened ; waned The light of thine eyes to the dusk. The husk, the husk Of all dead dreams, dead dreams Is come upon thee; Dust and ash and musk, and musk, and musk— All these are on thee. . . . I bear a chalice of red-tipped lilies under the moon. Bestrewn The dim pathway of delight With night, And her dim, pale stars that swoon In the circle of the skies. Thine eyes, O radiant god, are waning, and there dies 154
1913 · PDF PAGE 177
…quiet streams In the garden of lost delight : Ah! youth, so slim and white, The one sure blossom uncloses: When thou art lying still and dead, it blooms in the heart of the night. Shattered the golden sword in the great bronze hands of the old Hermaphrodite of the ages | O youth, so sad and wise, Shattered the strong hilt lies; The great bronze god for wages Has a hilt of gold, and eyes of gold, Beneath the sunless skies. Yet it were well to have been Idle and young and tender, Ignorantly and idly wise, disdainful in the dawn, Sweetest of all t…
1913 · PDF PAGE 188
…uried deep, oh! deep: Leave him alone to sleep. Leave him to sleep alone under the sky; He had one mighty vision, and did die. Now he is dead that dream shall be fulfilled While he doth sleep. For, whilst his song is utterly stilled, His dream doth wake again, And laugh and weep. But he is free, and knoweth no more pain. VII THE SONG Yea! I who have lain dead among the roses Have slain love utterly in my soul By mine own death ! O constant-playing fount Under the shadow of our Venus’ mount— Thou whom I love, unto whose vine uncloses The gaping …
1913 · PDF PAGE 261
DEAD WEIGHT Woe is me! I fear death’s darticles Close our “ Quiller’s ” brilliant articles. Requiesces Waite in pace, —Gone thine occupation, A. C.! A. QUILLER, JR.
1913 · PDF PAGE 175
…bind thee? O Rose! Wert thou but mine I would blind thee With the sacred sign Of five, Making thee mine. Alive Thou wouldst kill me, But dead, dead thou wouldst fill me With the low breath I seek, and I should be The incarnate spring’s gold immortality. Rose of the mire Where courses sacred fire. . . . Oh! In what far land Shall I weave thee a garland That shall contain thee, And shall not contain thee? That shall restrain thee, And shall not restrain thee? 137
1913 · PDF PAGE 420
…fly of Psyche, which is about to alight on this flower! But the insensate man has seen the look of the woman whom he has raised from the dead, the Grand Hiero- phant gives place to the lover, his lyre falls from his hands, he looks upon Eurydice, he darts towards her, . . . he clasps her in his arms, he finds her frozen still, her eyes are closed again, her lips are paler and colder than ever, the sensitive soul has trembled, the frail cord is broken anew—and for ever. . . . Eurydice is dead, and the hymns of Orpheus can no longer recall her to…
1913 · PDF PAGE 365
…ved by the very idea of God. Either one must say that Being is the universal tomb where, by an automatic movement, stirs a form for ever dead and corpse-like, or one must admit the absolute principle of intelligence and of life. Is the universal light dead or alive? Is it vowed fatally to the work of destruction, or providentially directed to an immortal birth ? If there be no God, intelligence is only a deception, for it fails to be the absolute, and its ideal is a lie. Without God, being is a nothingness affirming itself, life a death in disg…
1913 · PDF PAGE 424
THE EQUINOX waken her, but it is too late; the crime was accomplished; the woman was dead. It was to the public incredulity in the matter of magnetism that the authors of this sacrilegious experiment owed their own immunity from prosecution. The authorities held an inquest, and death was attributed to the rupture of an aneurism. The body, anyhow, bore no trace of violence; they had it buried, and there was an end of the matter. Here is another anecdote which we heard from a travelling companion. Two friends were staying in the same inn, and sha…
1913 · PDF PAGE 325
… make and remake their dogmas; let us leave the superstitious to detail and formulate their superstitions. As the Master said, “ Let the dead bury their dead!” Let us believe in the indicible truth; let us believe in that Absolute which reason admits without understanding it; let us believe in what we feel without knowingit | Let us believe in the supreme reason ! Let us believe in Infinite Love, and pity the stupidities of scholasticism and the barbarities of false religion! Oman! Tell me what thou hopest, and I will tell thee what thou art wo…
1913 · PDF PAGE 59
… & the Hierophant. Thus eleven, as my bride is eleven. 17. Hear me, ye people of sighing! The sorrows of pain and regret Are left to the dead and the dying, The folk that not know me as yet. 18. These are dead, these fellows; they feel not. Weare not for the poor and sad: the lords of the earth are our kinsfolk. 19. Is a God to live in a dog? No! but the highest are of us. They shall rejoice, our chosen: who sorroweth is not of us. 20. Beauty and strength, leaping laughter and delicious languor, force and fire, are of us. 21. We have nothing wi…
1913 · PDF PAGE 555
….” There is the terrible antistrophe of Tertullian’s Credo guia absurdun.. To brave God and to insult Him, is a final act of faith. “The dead praise thee not, O Lord,” said the Psalmist; and we might add if we dared: ‘‘ The dead do not blaspheme thee.” “O my son!” said a father as he leaned over the bed of his child who had fallen into lethargy after a violent access of delirium: “insult me again, beat me, bite me, I shall feel that you are still alive, but do not rest for ever in the frightful silence of the tomb!” A great crime always comes t…
1913 · PDF PAGE 582
…s shame by making itself at all costs a new veil, it will be obliged to drag itself into the outer darkness, and pass slowly through the dead sea, the slumbering waters of ancient chaos. These wounded souls are the larvze of the second formation of the embryo; they nourish their airy bodies with a vapour of shed blood, and they fear the point of the sword. Frequently they attach themselves to vicious men and live upon their lives, as the embryo lives in its mother’s womb. In these circumstances, they are able to take the most horrible forms to …
1913 · PDF PAGE 514
…rful interest or some dominating affection. Jesus expressed the same thought when he said to the daughter of Jairus: “ The maiden is not dead, but sleepeth”; and of Lazarus: “ Our friend is fallen asleep, and I go to wake him.” To express this resurrection- ist system in such a manner as not to offend common sense, by which we mean generally-held opinions, let us say that death, when there is no destruction or essential alteration of the physical organs, is always preceded by a lethargy of varying duration. (The resurrection of Lazarus, if we c…
1913 · PDF PAGE 199
ROSA IGNOTA On the breast of a love that is fled afar, this is soft, and gentle, and dead ; That passed away on the stream of night ; that flows and flows and flows From the heart of a faded Rose. XII THE SEER Over the billows Of soft green grass, Under the willows, The gray sprites pass. In twilight’s glamour The shadows grow,— Cadent life’s clamour ! So low, so low, That the world is hushed As the white light pales ; No longer flushed The daylight fails ; The fading light No longer glows In the west; the night Still deeper grows: O secret Ros…
1913 · PDF PAGE 43
…!) ROSA IGNOTA. By Victor B. Neusurc. THE GAME OF CROWLEY BOO TO BUDDHA CROWLEY POOL HYMN TO SATAN A BALLAD OF BEDLAM. By EruHet ARCHER. DEAD WEIGHT SPECIAL SUPPLEMENT—THE KEY OF THE MYSTERIES THE BIG STICK COLOPHON—TO LAYLAH EIGHT-AND-TWENTY INDEX TO VOLUME I ILLUSTRATIONS ALEISTER CROWLEY From a photograph by HECTOR MURCHISON FOUR HOROSCOPES To PAGE Ir 35 4r 57 80 81 gr 93 135 199 204 206 207 211 1-292 225 235 237 Frontispiece face page 95 3