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1939 · PDF PAGE 10

Temperance: A Tract for the Times

…ed, the phantoms, and past; they were born of my weariness-will When I craved, craved being and form, when the consciousness-cloud was a mist Precurser of stupor and storm, when I and my shadow had kissed, And brought into life all the shapes that confused the clear space with their marks, Vain spectres whose vapour escapes, a whirlwind of ruinous sparks, No substance have any of these; I have dreamed them in sickness of lust, Delirium born of disease—ah, whence was the master, the “must” Imposed on the All?—is it true, is it true, then, that s…

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1939 · PDF PAGE 6

Temperance: A Tract for the Times

…e fume of the body’s corruption, the mime Of its magotty moods as it rots from its worm-eaten egg to its slime. The mind hath not even a mist to excuse philosophic pretence Of a substance; at most it distorts some few of the phantoms of sense. Its reason is ever astray, its ignorance straitens its span; It ends in the mystery-night whence its clumsy creation began. It observes, it reflects, it decides as the slave of unconscious desires, Knows neither the world nor itself, nor stands for an hour but it tires. It struts in its pageant of pride, …

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1939 · PDF PAGE 11

Temperance: A Tract for the Times

…the prettiest star, And I am the looby that learns that all things equally are. Inscrutable Nothing, the Gods, the cosmos of Fire and of Mist. Suns, atoms, the clouds and the clods ineluctable dare to exit— I have made the Voyage of Thought, the Voyage of Vision, I swam To the heart of the Ocean of Naught from the source of the Spring of I Am: I know myself wholly the brother alike of the All and the One; I know that all things are each other, that their sum and their substance is None; But the knowledge itself can excel, its fulness hath broke…

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