The Oxford Book of English Mystical Verse

ALEISTER CROWLEY 5353 O Light! descend! My feet move vaguely on Pini amazing darkness, in the gloom Mist I can touch with trembling sense. There shone , in my misty memory, in the womb Nod smoke of mighty pillars ; yet my mind fj clouded with the horror of this same Path of the wise men : for my soul is blind Yee: and the foemen I have never feared could not see (if such should cross the way), ‘And therefore I am strange: my soul is scared With desolation of the Blinding day Tiare ome oo rom ye that fearful ihe Was not the Sun: my life has been the death, ‘This death may be the life: my spirit sight Knows that at last, at least. My doubtful breath Is breathing in a nobler air; I know, Tinowit in my soul, despite of thi ‘The clinging darkness of the Long Ago, Cruel as death, and closer than a kis, ‘This horror of great darkness. Iam come Into this darkness to attain the light: ‘To gain my voice I make myself as dumb: ‘That I may see I close my outer sight: So, Lam here. My brows are bent in prayer: Vineel already in the Gates of Dawn; And I am come, albeit unaware, Be the deep sanctuary: my hope is drawn om wells profounder than the very sea. ea, Lam come, where least I guessed it so, Into the very Presence of the Three That Are beyond all Gods, And now I know E spiritual Light is drawing me ‘0 its stooping splendour. In my soul