Thelema ScholarTHE ALEISTER CROWLEY COLLECTION
FOLLOW A WORD THROUGH THE COLLECTION

Search the corpus.

Phrase search ignores case and repeated whitespace. All-words search finds whole words anywhere on the same page. OCR errors can affect results.

7 matching pages

Page 1 of 1
1938 · PDF PAGE 11

The Heart of the Master

… Let me dwell at the feet of the Master! But the Silence swallows up those vain words; and they are smitten through with the fire of His blood, that transforms them to these: “At His feet is only the Earth, and that He breaks up into flowers; but all things that live are assumed to the Heart of the Master.” With that I cease to be myself at all: I am absorbed into His adorable essence, and my life is equally shed throughout the endless Aeons of Creation. Ay!—there is nothing separate any more at all; wherefore the Vision faileth, the Seer being…

original embedded textRead original & transcription →
1938 · PDF PAGE 14

The Heart of the Master

… by the manhood of his love. Thus then do I learn how best to make myself fit to fulfil my Life, in the Life of the Master, and offer my blood to His Heart. 0. Know Naught! All ways are lawful to Innocence. Pure folly is the Key to Initiation. Silence breaks into Rapture. Be neither man nor woman, but both in one. Be silent, Babe in the Egg of Blue, that thou mayest grow to bear the Lance and Graal! Wander alone, and sing! In the King's Palace his daughter awaits thee. I. The True Self is the meaning of the True Will: know Thyself through Thy W…

original embedded textRead original & transcription →
1938 · PDF PAGE 10

The Heart of the Master

…L A : by Thine Energy riseth all Motion of Will of the Master, begetter, destroyer! The Voice of the Pelican. I A O : all that liveth is blood of the Heart of the Master: all stars are at Feast on that Pasture, abiding in Light. The Voice of the Dove. H R I L I U : there is nothing too small, or too great, or too low, or too high; but all things are joined into Joy by the Love of the Master. The Voice of the Ibis. A B R A H A D A B R A : all ways are alike, being endless, eternally coiling in curves of ineffable wonder; each Star has its course…

original embedded textRead original & transcription →
1938 · PDF PAGE 12

The Heart of the Master

II. THE VOICE. It is not given to flesh and blood, till they be seven times purged, purged through and through, to dwell in the sanctuary of the Heart of the Master. My fervour is exhausted; my faith fails; I fall from the rapture of passion that pours through the abyss of space. All things feel It; all things live by It; yet nothing that knows itself knows It as It is. So now I, burning up, yet not burnt through, in the glory of that Light, vibrating to, yet not vibrating altogether with, the vigour of that Pulse, am just so far attuned to the…

original embedded textRead original & transcription →
1938 · PDF PAGE 9

The Heart of the Master

There is a Babe, that with his tiny hands presses out blood from his own breast, and smileth: The Way of the Master is the Innocence of Liberty. Also, a Golden Eagle, bearing a Chalice of Wine, crying aloud: The Woe of the Master is the Rapture of Light. Last, in their midst, above His head, there whirls a wheel of many-coloured radiance, so that thereby all deeds are harmonized in one. And the whirring of the wheel declares: The Wisdom of the Master is the Justice of Time. Attend to the Will of the Master! At this there cometh forth from the h…

original embedded textRead original & transcription →
1938 · PDF PAGE 7

The Heart of the Master

Phantasma. I waken from the horror. Every nerve is numb, every muscle frozen, every bone one ache, my blood throbbing with poison. But the shambles is now dimly to be seen. What? Can the Voice have spoken Truth after all? Is then that Star a Sun, whose light is at last piercing the foul mists of massacre, whose heat is forcing the congealed miasma to steam skyward in those murky banks of dim grey cloud? Hark! Yes, the few that are still alive have seen what rouses them to lift their crippled arms, to star with blear bloodshot eyes, to jabber wi…

original embedded textRead original & transcription →
1938 · PDF PAGE 6

The Heart of the Master

…ain of my spirit that blank darkness overwhelms me altogether. Umbra. Within the Vision is a dream—I struggle in my sleep in a morass of blood and mud. Howlings more bestial than hell's: stench at whose touch, solid as putrid flesh itself, I retch with the pangs of death; most frantic madness: phantoms of crime, ice-cold, ghosts made of murder—the nightmare seems interminable—no, it exhausts itself, sick with its own foulness, and sinks into a solid stupor.

original embedded textRead original & transcription →