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1939 · PDF PAGE 11

Temperance: A Tract for the Times

… of the past, All germ of the future, nor joy nor knowledge alive at the last, It is vain, for the Silence is dowered with a nature, the seed of a name: Necessity, fearfully flowered with the blossom of possible Aim. I am Necessity? Scry Necessity mother of Fate! And Fate determines me “I”; and I have the Will to create. Vast is the sphere, but it turns on itself like 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 clod…

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1939 · PDF PAGE 7

Temperance: A Tract for the Times

…, is but jetsam of Love, cast up by the tide of Her lust. So I hail thee, Astarte, and hymn thee in brothel and temple the same, Who are seed of all change, being Love, by Corruption Thine innermost Name! I know Thy device to deceive Thy servants Thine image that hailed How none, being mortal, might learn Thy name, or behold Thee unveiled. For Thy secret is this, that immortals are crowned with the virtue to die; And I, oh Astarte, bear death in my body—Of ye am I.

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