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4 matching pages
Page 1 of 11922 · PDF PAGE 6
…let me see your face Or hear your voice or touch you. Ah! the hour! He moves. Come back, come back, my life’s one flower! Come back. One kiss before you leave me. So! Stop—turn—one little kiss before you go; Tt is my right—you must. Oh no! Oh no! A SAINT’S DAMNATION (By Aleister Crowley. From The Soul of Osiris. 1901) YOU buy my spirit with those shameless eyes That burn my soul, you loose the torrent stream Of my desire, you make my lips your prize, And on them burns the whole life’s hope: you deem You buy a heart; but I am well aware How my d…
1922 · PDF PAGE 5
… some obscure forgetful hell. For me Forsake thy hopes in him. We worship, we, Rather the dear delights we know and hold; The first cool kiss, within the water cold That draws its music from some bubbling well, Looks long, looks deadly, looks desirable, ‘The touch that fires, the next kiss, and the whole Body embracing, symbol of the soul, And all the perfect passion of an hour. Turn to me, pluck that amaranthine flower, And leave the doubtful blossoms of the sky! You dare not kiss me! dare not draw you nigh Lest I should lure you to remain! no…
1922 · PDF PAGE 4
…ed and very glad, Whose breasts are lordlier for the pain they had, ‘Whose arms cleave closer than thy spouse’s own! Thy spouse—O lover, kiss me, and atone! All my veins burst for love, my ripe breasts beat And lay their bleeding blossoms at thy feet! Spurn me no more! O bid these strangers go; Turn to my lips till their cup overflow; * * * * * * make delight the minister of pain, pain the father of a new delight, a lamp of torture for the night to be borne without a cry eEEEij 5 a i i i PESyOsEE>ortenEenaluptrieAERfe4:aids 901)
1922 · PDF PAGE 2
… grove, ‘Where burn the sanctities of love: Nor may the foot of man be known, Nor evil eyes of mothers thrown On maidens that desire the kiss Only of maiden Artemis. But horned and huntress from the skies, She bends her lips upon the breeze, And pure and perfect in her eyes, Burn magical virginity’s Sweet intermittent sorceries. ‘When the slow wind from her sweet word In all their conchéd ears is heard. And like the slumber of the seas, There murmur through the holy trees The kisses of the goddess keen, And sighs and laughters caught between. F…