The Virgin
“
T
O
be a singer of sweet songs , " is the great ideal
Crowley has
enshrined
before
him ; for varied
as his powers
are , entwined
with satire , philosophy and
mysticism , as a singer of lyrics and love -songs Aleister
Crowley remains
unsurpassed
, unrivalled , among the
host of present-day poets .
His thoughts are as subtle ,
his imagination as gorgeous , his melodies
as charming
as those of Shelley
himself ; soft as a summer
breeze ,
fresh
as the dawn in May, sunny
as a June
day , and
then furious with burning
passion
and vitriolic
lust .
So closely interwoven in spirit are the true lyrics with
the remainder
of his amatory poetry , that it would be
dangerous
to attempt
to separate
them , and such an
attempt
would almost certainly lead
to repetition
or
a breaking of the chain of psychosexual sensations
,
dimming that
lustre which thrills through these mag
nificent
verses , from the
chaste
kiss of a mother
to
the Phaedrian embrace
of a Sadistic sow .
In
“ Why Jesus Wept,"
we
have
the
ephemeral
and headstrong passion of youth ; whilst in “
The Tale
of Archais
we
find
it burning
only as
a pure
and
lambent
flame , overcoming
all
adversity
,
sacrificing
self
-
love and even self
-
honour
to
attain the ideal
of
its
purpose
.
Love
is
the predominant power
in
the universe
;
over
and over again we shall find this enforced
,
greater than
fame
,
than wealth
,
than glory
,
greater than knowledge
,