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.

17 matching pages

Page 1 of 1
1912 · PDF PAGE 56

Sir Palamedes

…he snow he spurns. Ah! what a youth and strength he vows To the achievement of the quest ! And now the horrid height allows His mastery: day by day from crest To crest he hastens: faster fly His feet: his body knows not rest, Until with magic speed they ply Like oars the snowy waves, surpass In one day’s march the galaxy Of Europe’s starry mountain mass. “Now,” quoth he, “let me find the quest!” The Beast sterte up. Sir Knight, alas! Day after day they race, nor rest Till seven days were fairly done. Then doth the Questing Marvel crest The ridg…

original embedded textRead original & transcription →
1912 · PDF PAGE 15

Sir Palamedes

…ates the tides ; There, ill at heart, the chivalry Of strong Sir Palamede abides. Now comes irruption from the folk That live by murder: day by day The good knight strikes his deadly stroke; The vultures claw the attended prey. But day by day the heathen hordes Gather from dreadful lands afar, A myriad myriad bows and swords, As clouds that blot the morning star. Soon by an arrow from the sea The Lady of Palamede is slain ; His son, in sally fighting free, Is struck through burgonet and brain.

original embedded textRead original & transcription →
1912 · PDF PAGE 16

Sir Palamedes

10 But day by day the foes increase, Though day by day their thousands fall: Laughs the unshaken fortalice ; The good knights laugh no more at all. Grimmer than heathen hordes can scowl, The spectre hunger rages there; He passes like a midnight owl, Hooting his heraldry, despair. The knights and squires of Palamede Stalk pale and lean through court and hall; Though sharp and swift the archers speed Their yardlong arrows from the wall. Their numbers thin; their strength decays; Their fate is written plain to read. These are the dread deciduous d…

original embedded textRead original & transcription →
1912 · PDF PAGE 49

Sir Palamedes

… range Of Palamede his archer skill. All night he sits, with ardour strange And hope new-fledged. A gambler born Aye thinks the luck one day must change, Though sense and skill he laughs to scorn. So now there rush a thousand rats In sable silence on the corn. They sport their square or shovel hats, A squeaking, tooth-bare brotherhood, Innumerable as summer gnats 43

original embedded textRead original & transcription →
1912 · PDF PAGE 12

Sir Palamedes

…nim fly ; his troops delight In murder of many a myriad men, Following exultant into fight Sir Palamede the Saracen. Now when a year and day are done Sir Palamedes is aware Of blue pavilions in the sun, And bannerets fluttering in the air. Forward he spurs; his armour gleams; Then on his haunches rears the steed; Above the lordly silk there streams The pennon of Sir Palamede! Aflame, a bridegroom to his spouse, He rides to meet with galliard grace Some scion of his holy house, Or germane to his royal race.

original embedded textRead original & transcription →
1912 · PDF PAGE 115

Sir Palamedes

…e as one man in glad liesse To honour that great health. ‘“God’s way Is not as man’s” (quoth Lancelot). “Yet, may God send him back this day, His quest achieved, to Camelot!” “ Amen!” they cried, and raised the bow! ; When—the wind rose, a blast as hot 109

original embedded textRead original & transcription →
1912 · PDF PAGE 87

Sir Palamedes

…hantoms crawl. Breathless with foolish haste they jog And jostle, all for naught! They scrawl Vain things all night that they disown Ere day. They call and bawl and squall Hoarse cries; they moan, they groan. A stone Hath better sense! And these among A cabbage-headed god they own, With wandering eye and jabbering tongue. He, rotting in that grimy sewer And charnel-house of death and dung, Shrieks : “ How the air is sweet and pure! Give me the entrails of a frog And I will teach thee! Lo! the lure F 81

original embedded textRead original & transcription →
1912 · PDF PAGE 64

Sir Palamedes

…e accolade, And run upon a beast: but they Slip from the fatal point away And course about, confusing all That gallant concourse all the day,

original embedded textRead original & transcription →
1912 · PDF PAGE 21

Sir Palamedes

…v Sir PALAMEDE the Saracen Hath cast his sword and arms aside. To save the world of goodly men, He sets his teeth to ride—to ride! Three days: the black horse drops and dies. The trappings furnish them a fire, The beast a meal. With dreadful eyes Stare into death the child, the sire. Six days : the gaunt and gallant knight Sees hateful visions in the day. Where are the antient speed and might Were wont to animate that clay? Nine days; they stumble on; no more His strength avails to bear the child. Still hangs the mist, and still before Yawns th…

original embedded textRead original & transcription →
1912 · PDF PAGE 84

Sir Palamedes

…s the blackness of the sky; Wide is the sweep of the cold plain Where good Sir Palamede doth lie, Keen on the Beast-slot once again. All day he rode; all night he lay With eyes wide open to the stars, Seeking in many a secret way The key to unlock his prison bars. Beneath him, hark! the marvel sounds! The Beast that questeth horribly. As if a thirty couple hounds Are in his belly questeth he. Beneath him? Heareth he aright? He leaps to’s feet—a wonder shews: Steep dips a stairway from the light To what obscurity God knows. Still never a tremor …

original embedded textRead original & transcription →
1912 · PDF PAGE 99

Sir Palamedes

…gh he listened long, No shape of God or fiend or man, No whisper, groan, shriek, scream, or song Gave him to know it. Now it chanced One day Sir Palamedes rode Through a great wood whose leafage danced In the thin sunlight as it flowed From heaven. He halted in a glade, Bade his horse crop the tender grass; Put off his armour, softly laid Himself to sleep till noon should pass. 93

original embedded textRead original & transcription →
1912 · PDF PAGE 102

Sir Palamedes

… is a white cave by the sea Wherein the knight is hid away. Just ere the night falls, spieth he The sun’s last shaft flicker astray. All day is dark. There, there he mourns His wasted years, his purpose faint. A million whips, a million scorns Make the knight flinch, and stain the saint. For now! what hath he left? He feeds On limpets and wild roots. What odds? There is no need a mortal needs Who hath loosed man’s hope to grasp at God's! How his head swims! At night what stirs Above the faint wash of the tide, And rare sea-birds whose winging w…

original embedded textRead original & transcription →
1912 · PDF PAGE 60

Sir Palamedes

…with music wild and keen The Questing Marvel to his side. Then do the sportful city folk About his lonely stance abide: Making their holiday, they joke The melancholy ass: they throw Their clattering coppers in his poke. So day and night they come and go, But never comes the Questing Beast, Nor doth that laughing people know

original embedded textRead original & transcription →
1912 · PDF PAGE 97

Sir Palamedes

…Of that dread Beast he had not found. Nathless—although he would away— They forced the lack-luck knight to stay And lecture many a weary day. Verily, almost he had caught The infection of their costive thought, And brought his loyal quest to naught. It was by night that Palamede Ran from that mildewed, mouldy breed, Moth-eaten dullards run to seed ! gr

original embedded textRead original & transcription →
1912 · PDF PAGE 42

Sir Palamedes

…n on the prey! The life-blood pours: The poison works : the breath implores Its livelong debt from heart and brain. Alas! poor stag, thy day is done! The gallant lungs gasp loud in vain: Thy life is spilt upon the plain. Sir Palamede is stricken numb As one who, gazing on the sun, Sees blackness gather. Blank and dumb, The good knight sees a thin breath come Out of his proper mouth, and dart Over the plain : he seeth it Sure by some black magician art Shape ever closer like an hart:

original embedded textRead original & transcription →
1912 · PDF PAGE 20

Sir Palamedes

…t, white wrath of gales, Fill the dread armoury of sense. Nor shines the sun; nor moon, nor star Their subtle light at all display ; Nor day, nor night, dispute the scaur: All’s one intolerable grey. Black Ilyns, grey rocks, white hills of snow! No flower, no colour: life is not. This is no way for men to go From Severn-mouth to Camelot. Despair, the world upon his speed, Drive (like a lion from his den Whom hunger hunts) the man at need, Sir Palamede the Saracen.

original embedded textRead original & transcription →
1912 · PDF PAGE 22

Sir Palamedes

…r. The child complains—how feebly now! His eyes are blank ; he looks at her; The cold sweat gathers on his brow. To save the world—three days away|! His life in knighthood’s life is furled, And knighthood’s life in his—to-day |— His darling staked against the world | Will he die there, his task undone? Or dare he live, at such a cost? He cries against the impassive sun : The world is dim, is all but lost. Then, with the bitterness of death Cutting his soul, his fingers clench The piteous passage of her breath. The dews of horror rise and drench…

original embedded textRead original & transcription →