Oracles
ODE TO VENUS CALLIPYGE 39 Daughter of lust by the foam of the sea ! Mother of flame ! Sister of shame ! Tiger that Sin nor her son cannot tame ! Worship to thee ! Glory to thee ! Venus Callipyge, mother of me.
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ODE TO VENUS CALLIPYGE 39 Daughter of lust by the foam of the sea ! Mother of flame ! Sister of shame ! Tiger that Sin nor her son cannot tame ! Worship to thee ! Glory to thee ! Venus Callipyge, mother of me.
… when thy shoulders bare Shone on the sea with a sudden flame Into all Time to abundant fame ? Daughter of Lust by the foam of the sea ! Mother of flame ! Sister of shame ! Tiger that Sin nor her son cannot tame ! Worship to thee ! Glory to thee ! Venus Callipyge, mother of me. Fruitless foam of a sterile sea, Wanton waves of a vain desire, Maddening billows flecked with fire, Storms that lash on the brine, and flee, Dead delights, insatiate ire Broke like a flower to the birth of thee, Venus Callipyge, mother of me ! 35
…Waning, half hidden from the sun—and yet her soul is there. So stand I looking ever down to the rolling sea, Breast-heaves of a sleeping mother, spouse of Eternity : The dark deep ocean mother, that another hath reviled, Calling her bitter and barren—and am I not her child ? O mother sea, O beautiful, more excellent than earth, How is thy travail understood, except thou give me birth ? O waves of death, O saltness, O sorrow manifold ! I see beneath thy darkness azure ; deeper still, the heart of gold. Am I not true, O mother, who hast held the …
… space Flash out the splendid face ! Wisdom, immortal grace, Thoth, turn to usward ! III Deep, deep thy sombre Sea, Spouse of eternity ! Mother, we cry to Thee : Hear us, Mout, Mother ! IV Sound, sistron, sound afar ! Shine, shine, O dawning Star ! Flame, flame, O meteor Car ! Isis, Our Lady ! 69
…ow desirable ; Torment of hell as the leaves that fade Quickly forgotten, despised, decayed. They are decayed, but thou springest again, Mother of mystery, barren, who bearest Flowers of most comeliest children, who wearest Wounds for delight, whose desire shall stain Star-space with blood as the price thou sharest Sweet with thy lovers, whose passing pain Ripens to marvellous after-gain. Thou art the fair, the wise, the divine ! Thou art our mother, our goddess, our life ! Thou art our passion, our sorrow, our strife ! Thou, on whose forehead …
VENUS Written in the temple of the L.I.L., No. 9, Central America. MISTRESS and maiden and mother, immutable mutable soul ! Love, shalt thou turn to another ? Surely I give thee the whole ! Light, shall thou flicker or darken ? Thou and thy lover are met. Bend from thy heaven and hearken ! Life, shalt thou fade or forget ? Surely my songs are gone down as leaves in the dark that are blown : Surely the laurel and crown have faded and left me alone. Vainly I cry in the sunlight ; moon pities my passion in vain. Dark to my eyes is the one light, a…
…ass, all joys endure, All lessons last. Not heaven and not hell (My spirit is grown sure) Await the lover But death’s veil draws, life’s mother to discover, Nature ; no longer mother, but a bride ! Ay ! there is none beside. O brothers mightier than my mightiest word In the least sob that stirred Your lyres, bring me, me also to the end ! Be near to me, befriend Me in the moonlit, moonless deeps of death, And with exalted breath Breathe some few flames into the embers dull Of these poor rhymes and leave them beautiful.
82 THE STORM Even so draw me in life, O Mother, to thy breast ! Below the storm, below the wind, to the abiding rest ! That I may know thy purpose and understand thy ways : So, weeping always for the woe, also the love to praise ! The darkness falls intensely : no light invades the gloom. Stillness drops dew-like from the heaven’s unreverberant womb. Westward the ship is riding on the sable wings of night, I understand the darkness—why should I seek the light ?
… till, hotly showering, Passion disregarded Shame ! Was it sin—that moonlight madness ? Was our passion so accurst ? Sweetness damned to mother Sadness ? Satisfaction to bring Thirst ? II
…MA. 21s. THE TALE OF ARCHAIS. 5s. SONGS OF THE SPIRIT. 3s. 6d. JEZEBEL. 21s. AN APPEAL TO THE AMERICAN PEOPLE. 1s. JEPHTHAH. 7s. 6d. THE MOTHER’S TRAGEDY. 5s. THE SOUL OF OSIRIS. 5s. CARMEN SÆCULARE. 2s. 6d. TANNHÄUSER. 7s. 6d. BERASHITH. 5s. AHAB. 5s. THE GOD-EATER. 2s. 6d. ALICE. 21s and 5s. THE SWORD OF SONG. 10s. THE STAR AND THE GARTER. 1s. THE ARGONAUTS. 5s. GOETIA. 21s. WHY JESUS WEPT. 21s. and 42s. Of which many are almost exhausted. COLLECTED WORKS. TRAVELLER’S INDIA PAPER EDITION. STRONGLY BOUND WITH PORTRAIT. VOLUME I. 21s. COMPETITO…
…, Soon by Bassarids (wild joys of Nature) To be hunted. Ai ! the body mangled By the fatal fury of the Maenads Led by Agave his maddened mother (Nature’s self). But this the people guess not, Only see the youth in woman’s raiment, Feignèd tresses drooping from his forehead, Awkward with unwonted dress, rude waving Aye the light spear tipped with mystic pine-cone ; Hear his boast who lifts the slender thyrsus : “ I could bear the mass of swart Cithaeron, 133
…foe may wreak on foe, or hate work on the hated from the hater, Surely an ill directed mind on us will do a mischief greater. Father and mother, kith and kin, of these can none do service kind So great to us, as to ourselves the good direction of the mind.
…mpressed its memory on the desolate Sounds at its edge ; on such a strand of tears I linger through the long forgetful years, My sin for mother, and my woe for mate. I am a soul lost utterly—forbear ! I am unworthy both of tear and prayer. The mystic slumber of my sense forlorn Stirs only now and then ; some deeper pang Reminds despair there is a sharper fang, Reminds my night of a tempestuous morn. For I am lost and lonely : in the skies I see no hope of any sun or star ; On earth there blooms no rose, no nenuphar ; No cross is set for hope of…
…d throne, While far above all things God sits, the ultimate alone ! III I sate upon the mossy promontory Where the cascade cleft not his mother rock, But swept in whirlwind lightning foam and glory, Vast circling with unwearying luminous shock To lure and lock
THE STORM 8I Nay, O my mother, in eternal calm thy virginal depths lie. The peace of God, that passeth understanding, that am I ! Even I, perceiving deeply beneath the eyes of flame The soul that, kindling, is not kindled : I have known thy Name. Awake, O soaring billows ! Lighten the raging dome, Wrap the wide horizon in a single cloak of flaming foam, Leap in your fury ! Beat upon the shores unseen ! Devour your food, The broken cliff, the crumbled bank, the bar. I know the mood. Even so I see the terror of universal strife : Murderous war, a…
…in gorgeous attire ! An ox decked bravely for his doom ! So step I to the great desire. Sweet winds upon the gathering gloom Bend like a mother, as I go, Foreknowing, to my overthrow.’ Mr Crowley has some doubtful phrases, but most of his verse is clear and moderate. Here is his picture of Naboth :— ‘ The beast. A gray deceitful man, With twisted mouth the beard would hide, Evil yet strong ; the scurril clan Exaggerate for its greed and pride, The scum of Israel ! At one look, I read my foe as in a book.
…ook before us we are inclined to favour his chances in the future. He has shown at least the foot of Hercules.” —Birmingham Gazette. The Mother’s Tragedy, etc. 5s. The two dramas in this volume are of a nature to freeze the blood in the veins of the most sanguine of mankind. Also a short collection of lyrics of great beauty and horror is contained. “ Mr Aleister Crowley is a poet who is apparently under the obsession of an esoteric view of life and human destiny. He endeavours to grapple with the dark problems which exercised the imagination of…
6 ending in something like a tragic farce. The love of a man for his own mother, not according to a moral but a sexual standard, is not quite a novel idea, but Mr Crowley handles the subject in a revolting fashion, which the Greek poets avoided, owing to their keen artistic sensibility. Some passages in this drama are really very fine ; and ‘ The Fatal Force ’ is also a dramatic poem of singular power, though the subject is equally horrible. There is scarcely a poem in the entire volume free from morbidity ; and yet it is impossible to deny tha…