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Page 187 of 2031939 · PDF PAGE 6
…ough the soul seem one and alone of its kind. The body is naught but a corpse, its growth but a name of decay, A delirious dream of sick godswhere the Shadow hath sway. Concocted of offal and mire, putrescent with cancer of breath, A knot that unravels to naught, a riddle whose answer is Death? The mind is the reek of the fume of the bodys corruption, the mime Of its magotty moods as it rots from its worm-eaten egg to its slime. The mind hath not even a mist to excuse philosophic pretence Of a substance; at most it distorts some few of the ph…
1905 · PDF PAGE 94
…ed O the time of dule and teen! Once the far resounding throne O ihe dove the hawk has snared ! Of the mountain spirits strong, Would to God we had not been, All the treacherous souls that throng We, who see our maiden queen, Desolate abodes of stone, Love has slain whom hate had spared. Barren of all comely things, Sorrow for our sister sways Given to the splendid kings, All our maiden bosoms, bared Gloomy state, and glamour dark, To the dying vesper rays, Swooping jewel-feathered wings, Where the sun below the bays Eyes translucent with a spa…
1906 · PDF PAGE 82
…he sea’s hymn below, Breathing in peace of love, mighty and holy, Fearing to fuse, and longing—be it so! And the world’s pulse stops, as God bends him lowly To hear and know. ....... For not the heights of heaven shall exalt her Whose heart is full of love’s dumb deity, Nor harp-strings lift me, nor the sound of psalter, Whose love is merged and molten into thee, Not incense sweeter be by shrine or altar For youandme.......... But like dove’s eyes where glamour lies a-dwelling, Like sweet well-water rising in the well, Strong steep black curren…
1905 · PDF PAGE 134
…s are too proud and free And full of might To care for time or space, but glorious wend A royal path of flowers to the end. I pray thee, God, to weapon me With this keen fire, That I may set this people free As my desire ; That the white lilies of our liberty Grow on Life’s crags still higher, Till on the loftiest peaks their blossom flower, The rampart of a people and their power. ELEGY, August 27/h, 18983 So have the days departed, as the leaves Smitten by wrath of Autumn blast ; So the year, fallen from delight, still grieves Over the happy …
1907 · PDF PAGE 66
… wind of dawn is chill. Oh, in this world of miseries Is one hour’s pleasure ill to prize? Is love the means of ill? Oh, if there were a God to hear ! Or Christ had really given His life! Or did a Dove appear Bearing a rosebud, we might fear Or hope for hell or heaven. Alas! no sign is given. But short Bliss of the earth is ours ; The kiss that stops the avenging thought ; The furtive passion shrewdly caught Between the summer flowers. So, Flavia, till the dawn awake Cling close, cling close, as this is ! While moonlight lingers on the lake, Ou…
1919 · PDF PAGE 303
…inds improve by travel, others rather Resemble copper wire or brass, Which gets the narrower by going farther.” The days of the innocent God-help-me tourist seem to be done. The tourist of to-day has been bullied by the Y. M. C. A., in intervals between grafts, into moral responsibility and Christian earnestness, and all that sort of thing. A man can hardly go from New York to Philadelphia without writing a serious biography of George Fox. The poop-stick has given place to the prig. I have no hope what- ever for the future of humanity. 8.0. S. …
1929 · PDF PAGE 140
…nvy which regarded the happiness of any other person as an outrage and affront upon her. Every thought in her mind was a curse — against God, against man, against love, or beauty, against life itself. She was a combination of the witch-burner with the witch; an incarnation of the spirit of Puritanism, from its sourness to its sexual degeneracy and perversion. Douglas put the broken glass to his mouth, and gulped down a bumper of whisky. Then he offered the bottle to his visitor. She refused by saying that it "played hell with the astral body," …
1907 · PDF PAGE 103
…ung ! Nature, the monotonic moan Roared by the river, thunder alone :— The Hoang-Ho, its note, the monstrous Kung !2 Or let Kailasha’s ? godded peak Summon the oread and the gnome To leave their toils, the word to speak That shakes its azure-splitting dome With the reverberation—listen !—Aum ! Let olive fail, and mangostin ! O’erturn the dark forbidden draught ! Give me the taste, the taste unclean Of human flesh and blood that inean Some infinite horror to the light that laughed ! So let the scent of lily and rose, Of jasmine, taggara,® pass a…
1907 · PDF PAGE 213
…e as theirs ; Weave with your prayers The joys of a kiss! Ho! for the bliss Of the cup and the rod. He cometh ! O lover ! O friend and O God, Cover us, cover Our faces, and hover Above us, within us! Daintily shod, Daintily robed, His witcheries spin us A web of desire. Subtle as fire He cometh among us. The whole sky globed Is on fire with delight, Delight that hath stung us, The passion of night. Night be our mistress ! That tress and this tress Weave with thy wind Into curls deep-vined ! Passionate bliss ! Rapture on rapture! Our hymns recap…
1929 · PDF PAGE 179
…like Lisa; their rage smoulders in them. A blow and a caress would have tripled her passion for him. "What is the use of being a Chinese god," she might have asked, "if you do not gratify your worshippers by inflicting Chinese tortures?" But the principal manifestation of her moral instability was in her whims. These were in some degree, no doubt, due to her physical condition; but the mental stress exaggerated them to an abnormal height, like a glacier cramped between two mountain chains. It is necessary, in this world, to be made of harder st…
1905 · PDF PAGE 191
… !? The stars of morning rise and burn: I seek the dim supernal day! Sleep there, nor know me gone: sleep there And never wake, although God’s breath Catch thee at midmost of the prayer Of sleep—that so dream turns to death ! Pass, be no more! The beckoning dawn Woos the white ocean: I must go Whither my soul’s desire is drawn. Whither? 1 know not. Even so. 1 An actual rug: not a symbol. 2 Tennyson: the Holy Grail. The phrase is, however, much older,
1907 · PDF PAGE 63
LOVE-SONGS 57 And now the sea is loose and loud; Tremendous the typhoon Sweeps from the westward as a shroud, Wrapping some great god in a cloud, Abolishing the moon. And faster flying and faster still They gallop fast and faster. ‘© Turn, turn thy rein!” she shrieked again, “°Tis edged with sore disaster.” He looked her through with sight and will :— The pale bride knew her master. And now the skies are black as ink, The nightmare shoreward springs ; The lightning stoops to let them drink. They hold each other close, and think Unutterable thin…
1929 · PDF PAGE 133
…harted seas of glory on which her galleon might sail, undiscovered countries of spice and sweetness, Eldorado and Utopia and the City of God. The hour of the rising of the moon was always celebrated by an invocation upon the terrace consecrated to that planet. A few minutes earlier Iliel rose and bathed, then dressed herself in the robes, and placed upon her head the crescent-shaped tiara, with its nine great moonstones. In this the younger girls took turns to assist her. When she was ready, she joined the other girl, and together they went dow…
1905 · PDF PAGE 244
…AUSER. Who is this maiden robéd for a bride, White shoulders and bright brows adorable, The flaming locks that clothe her, and abide, As God were bathing in the fire of Hell? They change, they grow, they shake As sunlight on the lake: They hiss, they glisten on her bosom bare. O maiden, maiden queen ! The lightning flows between Thy mounting breasts, too magically fair. Draw me, O draw me to a dreaming death! Send out thine opiate breath, And lull ine to the everlasting sleep, That, closing from the kisses of disdain To ecstasy of pain, I may s…
1905 · PDF PAGE 41
… ‘*Sonnet to Sleep” of P. B. Marston, which Crowley had not at this time read. Whilst we may find in thee the secrets grey Of all things God would fain have hid for ever. IT, All things grow still before thine awful face. Now fails the lover’s sigh; Sleep’s angel clings About the children with her dreamy wings, And all the world is silent for a space. The waving of thy dusky plumes in heaven Alone breathes gentle music to mine ears, So that despair is fain to flee, and fear Cowers far away amid the shades of even. ‘* Hope,” is thy whisper, ‘‘ h…
1906 · PDF PAGE 89
… would be chief And drive her to abandon all things yet In mere despair, that by-and-by shall get Young comfort in a babe beyond belief. God would not curse and bless us to such measure; We were not sad enough nor glad enough! A little time of misery and pleasure ;. Pain strangling half the ecstasy thereof— Such all our gain, who gained the utmost treasure, Gift of the wizard wand and cup of love. THE FORTY-SEVENTH DAY. ‘*Thou ever young, fresh, lov’d, and delicate wooer.”’ Timon of Athens. THE little money that we had to spend Was gone long si…
1907 · PDF PAGE 225
EPILOGUE AND DEDICATION November 18, 1906, My bDeEaR JIon,—I address you by the unfamiliar title in giving you, a man self-damned, God knows how unjustly, as the author of the phrase, “I am not an appreciator of poetry, and I have no Keats,” these volumes. For the matter thereof is already in great part yours and as such cannot be given. The rest I offer because it is hardly possible to close definitely, as I do now, a period of many years’ work, without reflecting upon that period as a whole. And, when I do so, I find you at the beginning like…
1905 · PDF PAGE 246
…up to the heaven's height. SPENSER, Hymn in Honour of Love. Ln Venusberg: changing afterward to a woodland crossiway. VENUS. GONE to his Goddess! the poor worm’s asleep. And yet—TI cannot follow him. Not even Into the dreamland that these mortals use. There, I am barred. The flaming sword of Light Is set against me, and new pangs consume This nest of scorpions where my heart once was. Yet to my fearful task of hate I set No faltering bosom. I will have this man, His life, his strength ; and live a little more. Life—shall I ever reach the splend…
1907 · PDF PAGE 67
… my big arms ; and uttermost content I have of you, my tiny fairy, eh? Do you live in a flower, I wonder, and sleep and pray To the good God to send you dew at dawn And rain in rain’s soft season, and sun betimes, And all the gladness of the afterglow When you come shyly out of the folded bud, Unsheath your dainty soul, bathe it in blood Of my heart? Do you love me? Do you know How I love you? twittering rhymes I string you? Is your tiny life withdrawn Into its cup for modesty when I sing So softly to you and hold you in my hands, Do you love t…
1905 · PDF PAGE 178
…e of— this Skeleton key to charnel-house. My kiss Is the dog's kiss to Lazarus his ulcers ! Mock me, ye clinging lovers, at your peril ! God turns to dust the blossom of your youth. The fruit of lust is poisonous with—truth ! Its immortality is-—to be sterile ! This lie of Love hath no abiding : “Two loves are ended; one, the infant band, Rises more splendid.” sand ! Two loves are one ; but O to their dividing! Spin the rope of Fertility—distaste’s adoption ! Her body’s growth—desire’s mortality ! I look and loathe. Behold how lovers die, And i…