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…n tunes, And mystic runes. O secret Rose! O secret Flame! The west wind blows The secret Name Into the ears Of the wandering lights That love their fears In the summer nights, And in autumn rejoice By the haunted meres, Hearing the voice Of the seven spheres, Who are merged in the sun, Whom the moonlight frees, And whose orison The soft night-breeze Blows over the leas.
thee: he shall expound it. But remember, 0 chosen one, to be me; to follow the love of Nu in the star-lit heaven; to look forth upon men, to tell them this glad word. 77. Ο be thou proud and mighty among men! 78. Lift up thyself! for there is none like unto thee among men or among Gods! Lift up thyself, 0 my prophet, thy stature shall surpass the stars. They shall worship thy name, foursquare, mystic, wonderful, the num- ber of the man; and the name of thy house 418. 79. The end of the hiding of Hadit ; and blessing and worship to the prophet o…
…d that the Oracle is confused, contradictory and uneven, because of the interference of our personalities. There was the question of our love affair. I was absolutely in love with Rose in the ordinary sense of the term. My love for Fidelis excluded the material almost entirely. I was very proud of my love for Rose and very happy in it. The one thing I feel sure of is this: that we had a superb opportunity to take up the Great Work together and that we missed it on account of our determination to see things with our own eyes. We were, no doubt, …
Indian Summer 171 But not in the unutterable anguish of which the poet was writing. It is a formless calm. But love! We had never loved like this before. We had defiled love with the grossness of the body. The body is an instrument of infinite pleasure; but excitement and desire sully its sublimity. We were conscious of every nerve to the tiniest filament ; and for this one must be ineffably aloof from movement. H. makes one want to scratch, and scratching is infinite pleasure. But that is only a relic of animal appetite. After a little while, …
… Talismans, like my Invocations, have been poems. This letter must be like The Iliad in at least one respect; it does not end; it stops. Love is the law. love under will. Yours fraternally, 666
…d leap at once. "The Voice of my Higher Soul said unto me: Let me enter the Path of Darkness; peradventure thus I may attain the Light." Love is the law, love under will. Fraternally yours, 666 P.S. Let me adduce an example of the way in which the serious Aspirant bends to the oar. This is not boasting as if the facts denoted superlative excellence; they speak. The only comment is that if such conduct is not normal and universal, it ought to be. Yet no! I would add this: that I have not yet heard of anyone who has attained to any results
…ent as the Hieroglyph of Life. Life then is indestructible as all else is. All destruction and construction are changes in the nature of Love, as I have written to you in the former chapter proximate. Yet even as the blood in one pulse-throb of the wrist is not the same blood as that in the next, so individuality is in part destroyed as each life passeth; nay, even with each thought. What then maketh man, if he dieth and is reborna change- ling with each breath? This: the consciousness of continu- ity given by memory, the conception of his Self…
…ose veils which are most closely wrapt about It. Thus also in meditation it is (for many men) most profitable to concentrate the Will to Love upon the sacred centres of nervous force: for they, like all things, are apt images or true reflexions of their semblables in finer spheres: so that, their gross natures being dissi- pated by the dissolving acid of the Meditation, their finer souls appear (so to speak) naked, and display their force and glory in the consciousness of the aspirant. Yea, verily, let your Will to Love burn eagerly toward this…
Through the dim air a spirit frets His closely-woven wings ; Like love, upon my brow he sets The crown of many kings. (The trembling demons of the sea Before the poet bend ; He greets the angels quietly As one who greets a friend ; He waiteth, passionless, to be A witness of the end.) I chant in low sweet verses still A mystic song of dread, As one imposing all his will Upon the expectant dead ; And lights dip down, and shadows fill The dreams that haunt my head. I sing strange stories of that world No man may ever see ; My lips with strong del…
…33 AN ODE. VOICE of sightless magic Clear through day’s crystal sky, Blithe, contemplative, tragic, As men may laugh or sigh, As men may love or sorrow, Their moods thy music borrow To bid them live or die. | So sweet, so sad, so lonely, In silent noontide only Thy song-wings float and lie On cloud-foam scarred and riven By God’s red lightnings shriven, And quiet hours are given To him that lingers nigh. Fain would I linger near thee Amid the poppies red, Forget this world, and hear thee As one among the dead, Amid the daffadillies, Red tulips …
…poison, at whose feet All men lie dead ; No well of death, whose waters sweet Are tinged with red. No hideous impassioned queen For whom love dies ; No warm imperious Messaline That slew with sighs. Fiercer desires may cast away All things most good ; A people may forget to-day Their motherhood.
…inal white bride. So, in the dawn of skies unseen above, Your passion’s fiercest flakes shall catch new gold, The sun of an immeasurable love More beautiful shall touch the chaos cold Of earth that is grown old. Then, shameful sisterhood of earth’s disdain, Your lips shall speak your hearts, and understand; Your lovers shall assuage the amorous pain With spiritual lips more keen and bland, And ye shall take God’s hand.
…out shape Most surely there ! O melancholy ! charming child of folly, Where is thy comfort told without a word ? Where are thy plumes, beloved melancholy, Familiar bird ? O emerald star, deep beauty’s avatar, Are thy skies dim ? What throne is thine above ? Where is the crown of thee—thy sevenfold star, My heart of love ? Then from the clinging mist there came a singing, A dirge re-echoes to the poet prayer : “ I am their child to whom thy soul is clinging, I am Despair ! ”
…I shall ask Ever in this world ! Promise me! Tannhauser. Alas! One promise gave I once to woman — that Drove me to this illusion of your love, And broke your heart. Elizabeth. Oh no, I shall not die. Have I not Mary and the angels yet .'' Tannhauser. You are so pure, so pitiful —your word Cannot bring evil. Yes, I promise you ! Elizabeth. Go then the bitter pilgrimage to Rome, Gain absolution for this piteous past From him that owns the twin all-opening keys That bar your infinite on either side. Then ! look with freshness, hope, and fortitude …
…PT. Give me for grace His beautiful daughter, Voluptuous charmer ? A golden ring Should bring her to me ; No marriage dreamy ; Identity, love ! He looks up, Stay ! In the wood By the waterway, stands A delicate fairy ! Molly Tyson is discovered. I’ll steal from above, Watch her. How good ! How sweet of her hands ! How dainty and airy ! How perfect, how kind ! How bright in her thoughts ! How subtle, refined, The least light of her mind ! Let me approach ! O fear ! O sorrow ! I fear to encroach. Scree-king, I borrow Thy frown, thy pride, Thy mag…
…em and stern, With furious kisses in blind rage at Time Who hath wrought on thee his cold and common crime. So now I rise, laughing with love, and burn ! Those dissolute embers of thy lust grown dun, The ashen horrors of thy face, resemble The dull red glare of a November sun.
…re the cruel sky, Or build consummate palaces Of metal or of masonry . But have you wine and music still And statues and a bright - eyed love, And foolish thoughts of good and ill, And prayers to them who sit above ? How shall we conquer ? Like a wind That falls at eve , our fancies blow , And old Maeonides the blind Said it three thousand years ago . 13
…hip Him that swore by His holy T that One should not be One except in so far as it is Two. Iam glad that LAYLAH is afar; no doubt clouds love.
… meat and wine, and of senseless words. And when they plume themselves, like the oyster in the sun, on being without thought and without love, one says that they have peace of soul! They have the peace of the brute. For man, that of the tomb is better: these are the priests of folly and ignorance, these are the ministers of Antichrist. The true priest of Christ is a man who lives, suffers, loves and fights for justice. He does not dispute, he does not reprove; he sends out pardon, intelligence and love. The true Christian is a stranger to the s…
… meat and wine, and of senseless words. And when they plume themselves, like the oyster in the sun, on being without thought and without love, one says that they have peace of soul! They have the peace of the brute. For man, that of the tomb is better: these are the priests of folly and ignorance, these are the ministers of Antichrist. The true priest of Christ is a man who lives, suffers, loves and fights for justice. He does not dispute, he does not reprove; he sends out pardon, intelligence and love. The true Christian is a stranger to the s…