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…HE KEY OF THE MYSTERIES It is by charity, finally, that the folly of the cross has become the wisdom of the nations, because every noble heart has understood that it is greater to believe with those who love, and who devote themselves, than to doubt with the egotists and with the slaves of pleasure. II
…HE KEY OF THE MYSTERIES It is by charity, finally, that the folly of the cross has become the wisdom of the nations, because every noble heart has understood that it is greater to believe with those who love, and who devote themselves, than to doubt with the egotists and with the slaves of pleasure. II
…of Men, that they might rejoice in My Fertility: that My Sister might partake of My Great Light. O Light of God, when wilt thou find the heart of man— write not! I would not that men know the Sorrow of my Heart, Amen! I turned me to the West, and the Archangel bore a flaming Book, on which was written AN in Enochian. Within was drawn a fiery scorpion, yet cold withal. Until the Book of the East be opened! Until the hour sound!
THE GATE OF THE SANCTUARY. 61 The king was silent. None of us would stir. I sat, struck dumb, a living sepulchre. For—hear me ! in my heart this thing became My sacrament, my pentecostal flame. And with it grew a fear—a fear of Her. What Her ? Shame had not found itself a name. Simply I knew it in myself. I brood Ten years—so seemed it—O ! the bitter food In my mouth nauseate ! In the silent hall One might have heard God’s sparrow in its fall. But I was lost in mine own solitude— I should not hear Mikhael’s trumpet-call. Yet there did grow a cl…
…emselves the Maenads on my shoulders” So the self-willed’s folly lights the laugher Rippling round the theatre. But horror Seizes on the heart of the judicious. They see only madness and destruction In the mockery’s self innate, implicit. Horror, deeper grief, most dreadful musings Theirs who penetrate the poet’s purpose ! So in all the passing joys of nature, Joys of birth, and joys of life, in pleasures Beautiful or innocent or stately, May the wise discern the fact of being— Change and death, the tragedy deep-lurking Hidden in the laughter o…
… such a questing there resounds As God had loosed the very Pit, Or as a thirty couple hounds Are in its belly as it bounds! Full sick at heart, I ween, was then The loyal knight, the weak of wit, The butt of lewd and puny men, Sir Palamede the Saracen. 37
… such a questing there resounds As God had loosed the very Pit, Or as a thirty couple hounds Are in its belly as it bounds! Full sick at heart, I ween, was then The loyal knight, the weak of wit, The butt of lewd and puny men, Sir Palamede the Saracen. 37
… will be delighted to hear that our Morte d’Arthur premature. In America, at least, Arthur Waite seems to have been up and doing, with a heart for any fate, Still achieving, still pursuing. Learn to labour and to Waite NILLED VICTIMS
…eaving Mr. Vaughan’s house, as I shall only get him into trouble if I stay. But I will not come home with you, you who broke my mother’s heart, and turned me from your doors penniless. BRANDON, Unnatural puppy ! PERCY. My mother’s spirit forgives you, and in my heart is no longer the desire for vengeance. So far have I risen, but not far enough to forget that you are the most abominable villain that plagues God’s beautiful world with his infesting life. BRANDON [ze2¢h setdden calnness|. This to his father! say, you wretch? PERCY [to VAUGHAN]. I…
…race Even in the shape of splendour as she passed. The king’s thought turned at last To that forgotten story : and desire Filled all his heart with aureate fire Whose texture was a woman’s hair : so fine Bloomed the fair flower of pleasure : Not the wild solar treasure Of gleaming light, but the moon’s shadowy pearl, The love of a young girl Before she knows that love : so mused the king ; “ I am not weary of the soul of spring” He said, “ none happier in this causeless chain Of life that bears no fruit of pain, No seed of sorrow,” yet his hear…
…yes ! let fancy sup That grislier banquet than old Atreus planned ! Mind cannot fathom, nor the brain conceive, Nor soul assimilate, nor heart believe The horror of that Thing without a Name. Full on me, boasting, like Death’s hand it came, And struck me headlong. Linger, while I weave The web of mine old agony and shame. A little shadow of that hour of mine Touches thy heart ? Fill up the foaming wine, And listen for a little ! How profound Strikes memory keen-fanged ; memory, the hound That tracks me yet—a shiver takes my spine At one half-hi…
AMBERGRIS 65 FROM ORACLES On Waikiki Beach Upheaved from chaos, through the dark sea hurled, Through the cleft heart of the amazd sea, Sprang, mid deep thunderous throats of majesty, Titanic, in the waking of the world ; Sprang, one vast mass of spume and molten fire, Lava, tremendous waves of earth ; sprang higher Than the seas crest volcano-torn, to be Written in Cyclopean charactery, Hawaii. Here she stands Queen of all laughters lands That dance for dawn, lie tranced in leisured noon, Dreaming through day towards night, Craving the perfu…
INDEX TO FIRST LINES. PAGE Oh fair and straight and like a naked sword ... Oh heart , how long shall we serve errantry ... O lustrous Lady of the luminous lake Only the fire of love can fuse and burn O what, alas , can yet delay . .. . .. 209 155 15 205 151 87 Paling fires of instant blue Pause, Joy ! I cannot follow ... Pipe me a silver song Put on your coat and come to my boat 180 Red Admiral , Red Admiral Roses and kisses alike we've known ... 32 94 167 148 89 22 She wakes at sunrise on her little bed She who gives birth in woe . .. Shining …
…atch his low call ; and now a song complains. The bridge is bleeding and the river hears. Ah ! God ! I cannot live for pity deep Of that heart-quelling chant—I could not sleep Ever again to think of it. I close My hearing with my fingers. Gently goes A quivering foot above them as they weep— I weep, I also, as the river flows. Slowly the bridge subsides, and I am flung Deep in the tears and terrors never sung. I swim with sorrow bursting at my breast. Yet I am cleansed, and find some little rest. Still from my agonised unspeaking tongue Breaks …
…its ocean-bathed tresses, The bright sun broadens over all the earth. The green leaves fall, fall into his caresses, And all the worlds heart leaps, again addresses Its life, and girds it in the golden girth. Then noon full-fashioned lies upon the steep. The large sun sighs and turns his bridle-rein, Thinks of the ocean, turns his heart to sleep, Laughing no longer, not yet prone to weep, Feeling the prelude of the coming pain. The hills and dales are dumb beneath the heat, And all the world lies tranced or mutely dreaming,
Short Commons I51 Thirst ! Not the thirst of the throat Though that be the wildest and worst Of physical pangs—that smote Alone to the heart of Christ, Wringing the one wild cry “I thirst!” from His agony, While the soldiers drank and diced: Not the thirst benign That calls the worker to wine; Not the bodily thirst (Though that be frenzy accurst) When the mouth is full of sand, And the eyes are gummed up, and the ears Trick the soul till it hears Water, water at hand, When a man will dig his nails In his breast, and drink the blood Already that…
…agination makes its creator an idolater; he is obliged to believe in it, and worship it. Our spirit should be silent before Him, and our heart alone has the right to give Him a name: Our Father!
…agination makes its creator an idolater; he is obliged to believe in it, and worship it. Our spirit should be silent before Him, and our heart alone has the right to give Him a name: Our Father!
…ing and straight. She pointed to the East with flashing eyes : “ Thou canst not see her—but my Queen shall rise.” Bowed head and beating heart, with feet unsure I passed her, trembling, for she was too pure. I could have loved her. No : she was too wise. Her presence was too gracious to endure. “ She did not bid me go and chain me to her,” I cried, comparing. Then, my spirit knew her For One beyond all song—my poor heart turned : Then, ’tis no wonder. And my passion burned Mightier yet than ever. To renew her Venom from those pure eyes ? And ye…
Aleister Crowley . Oh, to be there , my heart ! And the vesper bells awaken ; Colleges call their children ; Lakeland fades from the sight . Only the sad slow Cam like a sire with age grown heavy Wearily moves to the sea , to quicken to life at last . Blithelier I depart , to a sea of sunnier kindness ; Hours of waiting are past ; I re - quicken to love .