180
THE STAR IN THE WEST
XVIII .
I dare
not to the greater sins aspire
;
I might-so gross am
1
---
take pleasure
in
These filthy
holocausts
,
that
burn
to
sin
A
damned
incense
in
the hellish
fire
Of human
lust
-
earth's
joys
no
heaven
may
win
;
Pain holds the prize
In
blood
-
stained
hands
;
Love laughs
,
with anguish
in
His eyes
.
Also
he
sees how dangerous
it
is
to
sip from the cup
of
“
little
common
sins
.
”
Sins
nurtured
by
trust
in
man's forgiveness
;
then struck with
the horror
of
the
still
small voice
,
he
bids God break his unrepentant
will
,
and
let the kiss
of
life
:
XXI
.
Melt
on
my lips
to
flame
,
fling back the gates
of
Dis
!
This
is
the
true conquest
of
life
,
the salvation
of
a
soul wandering through
the mazy depths
of
existence
.
At
length filled with the experience
of
worldly
things
seeking the Sublime
,
he
finds
it.
The kingdom
of
Dis
,
the terrors
of
Death are vanquished
,
“
and
,
like this
in
substantial pageant faded
,
leave
not
a
rack behind
.”
Yet how difficult
is
all
this without
the guidance
of
a
master hand
,
the hand which supports but does not
hold
,
directing but never compelling
.
Then
the
Isis
of
Aceldama
is
unveiled
,
and
the
secret
is
caught from the age
-
worn lips
of
the Sphinx
.
On the crimson field
of
the Exoteric
the body
of
ex
clusive Esoterism
lies dead
,
the soul has sloughed the
skin
of
caste
,
has riven the fetters
of
law
,
has smitten
the last head from the hydra
of
religion
;
and rises
as
an
eagle
-
winged
serpent
,
sublime
,
neither good nor
evil
,
pristine
,
Adamic
,
immaculate
: