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…ht, And bid ‘‘ be still!” But ye, ye invoke in your city And call on his name on the hill The God who is born without pity, The horrible heart that is chill ;
…med with saltness never born of brine ; Vainly I fight the air ; he sneers, and lies. He laughs at all this agony of mine. IIe chills my heart, and desecrates th: shrine Where Love his holy incense used to burn. He mocks those thoughts, those songs, those looks divine While his lewd visage no man may dis- cern, And baffling darkness hides his terror if I turn. Fighting and falling ever, wearicst Even of beating off the tempter’s blows, Struggling in vain to what one hopes the best, A distant river over many snows, On whose green bank the purple…
…d queens unite in desperate, Unsatisfied, unholy song. O Khephra,? manifest in flesh, Arise, create the world afresh ! The silence of my heart is one With memory’s insatiate night ; I hardly dare to hope the sun. I seek the darkness, not the light. O Lord Harpocrates,? be still The moveless centre of my will ! My sorrows are more manifold Than His that bore the sins of man. My sins are like the starry fold, My hopes their desolation wan. O Nuit,’ the starry one, arise, And set thy starlight in my skies ! In darkness, in the void abyss, I grope …
…he bears the ill quiver no more. He has aged as we all, and despairs; but the lady who bore Him, Eros, to ruin the ages, has softened at heart ; He is tamed by the art of the sages, the magical art. No longer he burns and blisters, consumes and corrodes ; He hath Muses nine for sisters; the holy abodes Of the maiden are open to him, for his wrath is grown still ; His eyes with weeping are dim; he hath changed his will. We know him; and Venus sinks, a star in the West ; A star in the even, that thinks it shall fall into rest. Let it be so, then!…
… from afar. For the ways of the anger of lords Are bloody with widowing swords, And the roar of contention of chords Rolls back from the heart of the war. The fighters slip down on the dying, And flying folk stumble on dead, And the sound of the pitiless crying Of slaughter is heavy and red,
…know you, in the desert where I dwelt I had strange store of books obscure ; books written Not openly for fools, but inwardly Toward the heart of wise men. And myself Studied no little while upon these things, And, seeking ever solitude, I went Nightly upon a rock that stood alone Threatening the sandy wilderness, and prayed Where many visions came before mine eyes So strange—these eyes have started from my head, And every hair, grown fearful, like a steed Reared in its frenzy: see, these lips of mine Have blanched, these nails have bitten thro…
…Philosophy, the Kwan-se-on of the Mongolian Peoples, and means the magical Force in Man, which is the sexual Force applied to the Brain, Heart, and other Organs, and redeemeth him. ; The gradual Disclosure of these magical Secrets to the Poet may be traced in these Volumes, which it has been my Privilege to be asked to explain. It has been impossible to do more than place in the Hands of any intelligent Person the Keys which will permit him to unlock the many Beautiful Chambers of Holiness in these Palaces and Gardens of Beauty and Pleasure.
… moons. The heraldry of the Empress is two‐fold: on the one side, the Pelican of tradition feed‐ ing its young from the blood of its own heart; on the other, the White Eagle of the Alchemist. With regard to the Pelican, its full symbolism is only available to Initiates of the Fifth degree of the O.T.O. In general terms, the meaning may be suggested by identifying the Pelican herself with the Great Mother and her offspring, with the Daughter in the formula of Tetra‐ grammaton. It is because the daughter is the daughter of her mother that she can…
…ease from fear, The ice from fire. Not here—O God ! I would I were dead Under the sod! My brain is as lead. My thoughts are as smoke. My heart is a fire ; I know not what fuel Is feeding its fury ! In vain I invoke The Lord of Desire ! He is evil and cruel. The spells of Jewry Are poured in his ear In vain: he may hear not. O would I were dumb! For the pestilent fever That bites my blood Forces like fear These babblings: I near not The secret, nor come To my purpose for ever. Wherefore, to show I can repeat the effort, This verse inserted like …
…frican and Asiatic themes; "The Jilt", a piece of sadistic exultation over my wife's cruelty to Howell, who we heard was stricken to the heart by the thunderbolt of her marriage. Then there was "The Eyes of Pharaoh", a terrific presentation of the mystery of Egypt, and "Benzai", a poem in praise of Japan, then at was with Russia. There was a new note in my work: that of humour. "The Beauty and the Bikkhu" is a versification of a Buddhist legend. The original is unconsciously funny, and I brought this out, while preserving the sublimity of the s…
…ass into the S. P. P., and that utterly ! With that our Father sighed deep and laid back his reverend head, and was silent. But from his heart cam e a subtle voice of tenderest fare- well, so that we knew him well dead. But for seventy days and seventy nights we touched him not , but abode ever about him: and the smile changed not on his face, and the whole grove was filled with sweet and subtle perfumes. Now on the 71st day arose there a great dispute about his body ; for the angels and spirits and demons did contend about it, that they might …
…CHORUS. Tell me that Jason has achieved the quest. MESSENGER. Truth is no handmaid unto happiness. CHORUS. What terror dost thou fill my heart withal ? MEDEA. O timorous heroes! Let the herald speak ! Who meets fear drives her back ; who flees from fear Stumbles; who cares not, sees her not. Speak on ! THE MESSENGER. Terrible bellowings as of angry bulls Broke from the stable as the first swift shaft Of dawn smote into it: and stainpings fierce Resounded, shaking the all-mother earth. Whereunto came the calm and kingly man, Smiling as if a swee…
…His force null? Nay, verily ! These petty sins His mercy and long-suffering pardon. What final crime of horror wins At last His gracious heart to harden ? What one last infamy shall wake His anger, for His great Name’s sake? Is there one sin so horrible That no forgiveness can obtain, That flings apart the bars of hell, | For which repentance shall be vain? . Ay! but there is! One act of ruth Done in my rash unthinking youth ! Who wonders if I hold the scale. Poised in my deep deliberate mind, Between the weight of Zidon’s Baal And Judah’s God-…
…me—the intense sublime Master of all philosophy and play, Lord of all love and music and sweet rhyme. Follow thou him! Work ever, if thy heart Be fervent with one hope, thy brain with art, Thy lips with song, thine arm with strength to smite : Achieve some act ; its name shall not depart. Christ laid Love’s corner-stone, and Czesar built The tower of glory ; Sappho’s life was spilt From fervent lips the torch of song to ignite : Thou mayst add yet a stone—if but thou wilt. ’ Browning, in '‘ ‘The Householder.” And yet the days stream by; night s…
… suppressed sobbing from the Chapel.) Ah! you may weep if you will—but what choice have you left me? And Lord! Lord! what could a loving heart ask more? [Stswbling on steps, and a muttering, ‘* Perdition catch the fool who invented these ctreular statrs.’| Ha! He seems a little uncertain of the stair. Hush! [Auter DENYS, who remains behind arrvas, ALAIN Szés, DENYS. [|Stambles and swears.) O these stairs! They go round and round, or seem to go round—faith! I have seen an entire castle do as much—and lead nowhere. [Pushes against arras and ts se…
…York. The man whose property they are will not be likely to hear of it, as the inexplicable conduct of Alice has more or less broken his heart, and he has become a sort of hermit. But the wife turns up again like a bad penny. The ‘worm’ has by this time got rather tired of the German girl, and he goes off to Chicago after another woman, leaving his wife and his mistress to share a room at the McAlpin. In- stead of quarreling, they made Friends, and the wholly icily murderous plot is laid bare. Alice now makes strenuous efforts to get back her l…
… of a ghostly arm Flashes a spot of light !”” Ah! weary day! "Tis but the flickering of the candle-light And the unmanning sorrow of the heart That lends the reins to fancy’s charioteer. Lay them together, let us leave them there! There comes a vision to my mortal eyes Of things immortal. swell Of some wild clarion through the dazzling night, Whose fairy zther suddenly illumes With silver meteors innumerable And golden showers of stars—lost worlds of thought And poets’ dreams, and jewels of virgin sighs. Hark ! the broad rings of sound go waver…
… he knew the ring! He did not ask me how I sped: disdain Curled his old lips: he said one bitter thing. ‘Vou crossed the bridge—no man’s heart trod you there?” Then crossed his breast in uttering some prayer: “T pray you follow of your courtesy, My lord!” I followed very bitterly. ‘© Likes you the sword I gave?” I did not dare Answer one word. My soul was hating me. He bade me draw. I silently obeyed. My eye shirked his as blade encountered blade. I was determined he should take my life. ‘Went your glance back—-encountering my wife ?” ‘““Taunt …
…chance companion, some soul damned afresh Since my redemption, that is vocal at all, For Lam wrapt away from light and call In the sweet heart of the red rose. My spirit only knows This woman and know more? I, I am concentrate In the unshakable state Of constant rapture. Who should pour lis ravings in the air for winds to whirl, Far from the central pearl Of all the diadem of the universe? Let God take pen, rehearse Dull nursery tales ; then, not before, O rose, Red rose ! shall the beloved of thee, Infinite rose ! pen puerile poetry That turns…
…nd in sweet shapes of art : The same thought for the ointment and the knife— Oh lightning! blast the image of my wife Out of my mind and heart! How can one hour dissolve a year’s delight ? One arrow striking the full eagle-flight lDrop him so swift, giving no time to die, No dusk to herald and delay the night? «AV serpent stung her sleeping: if the abyss Know any cell more dolorous than this, Were there a sharper tooth to destiny Than this that strikes me in the dead girl’s kiss :— Oh if aught bitterer could be, could know, If ninefold Styx cou…