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Page 41 of 1291904 · PDF PAGE 129
…en Celia croaks. Ill dress her up in cloaks and toques Etcetera, earn her away And after sundry final pokes Hire her at three-and-six a day To G...H... what a hoax ! None but the dead shall have its way When Celia croaks. X When Celia rots, each poxy hole Will serve : she hath an hundred twats. Come finger, tongue, and fucking pole When Celia rots. Here, the old ulcers ! Happy spots ! Hail, pustules ! Hail, oh central goal Wherein some sucking devil squats Now surely as ever ! Broke the bowl. Loosed the old cord yet hope unblots The re…
1904 · PDF PAGE 88
…arruthers ? SIR GRABSON J. He is away to Windsor — the King (they beat their foreheads eightyseven times upon the ground) knights him to-day. SIR HERPES Z. I knew he had the O.M. and the F.Z.S. ; but this knight- hood ? SIR GRABSON J. He has taken up political economy. He will marry a duchess. Greumoch, too, is doing well. After the — ah — event we all deplored so, he entered the Benedictines at Fort Augus- tus ; and to-morrow they install him as Lord Abbot.
1913 · PDF PAGE 116
…hat ever goeth, Being in myself the Way; Known, that yet no mortal knoweth, Shewn, that yet no mortal sheweth, I, the child of night and day. I am never-dying youth. Iam Love, and I am Truth. I am the creating Word, I the author of the zon ; None but I have ever heard Echo in the empyrean Plectron of the primal pzean! I am the eternal one Winged and white, the flowering rod, I the fountain of the sun, Very God of very God! Iam he that lifteth up Life, and flingeth it afar; I have filled the crystal cup; I have sealed the silver star. I the wing…
1913 · PDF PAGE 116
…hat ever goeth, Being in myself the Way; Known, that yet no mortal knoweth, Shewn, that yet no mortal sheweth, I, the child of night and day. I am never-dying youth. Iam Love, and I am Truth. I am the creating Word, I the author of the zon ; None but I have ever heard Echo in the empyrean Plectron of the primal pzean! I am the eternal one Winged and white, the flowering rod, I the fountain of the sun, Very God of very God! Iam he that lifteth up Life, and flingeth it afar; I have filled the crystal cup; I have sealed the silver star. I the wing…
1944 · PDF PAGE 43
…l, people should regard hi‐ eroglyphs (whether written or pictured) as living things having power in themselves. It may be that, even to‐day, there are houses in darkest Shropshire where anyone who put another book on the top of the Family Bible would be told never to darken those doors again. Auto‐ matic action is everywhere ascribed to inanimate objects; for instance, Horseshoes on doors. There is an entire class of such superstitions. The problem of how any given superstition arose has not always been satisfactorily solved. One can (ignorant…
1901 · PDF PAGE 7
… desolate Marsh-strand : the herons gaunt still contemplate What was delight, is ruin, may breed love again, Even as darkness breeds the day : when life is slain. * * * * * * * O who will hear my chant, my cry ; my voice who hear, Even in this weary misery, this danker mere, Me, in mine exile, who am driven from yonder mountains Blue-gray, and highland airs of heaven, and moving fountains ? Me, who shall hear me ? Am I lost, a broken vessel, Caught in the storm of lies and tossed, forbid to wrestle ? Shall not the sun rise lively yet, the rose …
1909 · PDF PAGE 104
…nd I; God sailed across The sky in’s galleon of amber, drawn By singing winds While we wove garlands of the flowers of our minds. IV All day my lover deigned to murder me, Linking his kisses in a chain About my neck ; demon-embroidery! Bruises like far-off mountains stain The valley of my body of ivory ! Then last came sleep. I wake, and he is gone; what should I do but weep? Vv Nay, for I wept enough—more sacred tears |— When first he pinned me, gripped My flesh, and as a stallion that rears, Sprang, hero-thewed and satyr-lipped ; Crushed, as …
1909 · PDF PAGE 104
…nd I; God sailed across The sky in’s galleon of amber, drawn By singing winds While we wove garlands of the flowers of our minds. IV All day my lover deigned to murder me, Linking his kisses in a chain About my neck ; demon-embroidery! Bruises like far-off mountains stain The valley of my body of ivory ! Then last came sleep. I wake, and he is gone; what should I do but weep? Vv Nay, for I wept enough—more sacred tears |— When first he pinned me, gripped My flesh, and as a stallion that rears, Sprang, hero-thewed and satyr-lipped ; Crushed, as …
1910 · PDF PAGE 412
…n on the prey! The life-blood pours: The poison works : the breath implores Its livelong debt from heart and brain. Alas! poor stag, thy day is done! The gallant lungs gasp loud in vain: Thy life is spilt upon the plain. Sir Palamede is stricken numb As one who, gazing on the sun, Sees blackness gather. Blank and dumb, The good knight sees a thin breath come Out of his proper mouth, and dart Over the plain : he seeth it Sure by some black magician art Shape ever closer like an hart:
1910 · PDF PAGE 412
…n on the prey! The life-blood pours: The poison works : the breath implores Its livelong debt from heart and brain. Alas! poor stag, thy day is done! The gallant lungs gasp loud in vain: Thy life is spilt upon the plain. Sir Palamede is stricken numb As one who, gazing on the sun, Sees blackness gather. Blank and dumb, The good knight sees a thin breath come Out of his proper mouth, and dart Over the plain : he seeth it Sure by some black magician art Shape ever closer like an hart:
1928 · PDF PAGE 93
…n, and strange as it may seem that ideas of patriotism and free- dom should possess themselves masterfully of the brain of an actor, one day Fanciullo joined a conspiracy which had been got up by some discontented noblemen. There are everywhere good people ready to denounce those atrabilious individuals who want to depose princes and reconstitute soci- ety without consulting it. The nobles in ques- tion were arrested, and with them Fanciullo; there was no doubt that one and all would be condemned to death. I would gladly believe that the Prince…
1961 · PDF PAGE 92
…all my Will. Thou knowest well how greatly I was rewarded. Yet in this last Initiation to the Grade of Magus, wherein three-and- seventy Days, as Men count Days, is but One Day, the Ordeal grew so fierce and intolerable that I gave back a Step. I did not utterly renounce the Work, but I swore not to continue unless mine Agony were abated. But after fifteen Days, I came to myself in a certain Ordeal, wherein I knew myself finally, that I could do no other than take up that fearful Burden that had broken my Spirit. And for these fifteen Days have…
1909 · PDF PAGE 11
… and the Hermetic Order of the Golden Dawn. Unluckily, the leading spirit in these latter societies found that his prayer, “Give us this day our daily whisky, and just a wee drappie mair for luck !” was sternly answered, ‘‘ When you have given us this day our daily Knowledge-lecture.” Under these circumstances Daath got mixed with Dewar, and Beelzebub with Buchanan. But even the best of these systems is excessively bulky ; modern methods have enabled us to concentrate the substance of twenty thousand pages in two score. The best of the serious …
1904 · PDF PAGE 88
…n starry palaces, and a sword to guard him. Note well also that these children, and those others, are two, being four. And on the sixt h day (for the seven day s were past) he rose and came into his ancient tem ple, a temple of our Holy Order, O my Brethren, wherein sat that Hierophant who had initiated him of old. Now read he well the riddle of the Goat (Blessed be his name among us for ever ! Nay, not for ever !), and therewith the Teacher m ade him a master of Sixfold Chamber, and an ardent Sufferer toward the Blazing Star. F or the S word, …
1906 · PDF PAGE 116
TIO THE ARGONAUTS With me the night is fallen in day ; The day swoons back to night; The white and black are woven in gray, Faint sleep of silken light. A strange soft light about me shed Devours the sense of time: Hovers about my sleepy head Some sweet persistent rhyme. Beneath my breast my love may hear Deep murmur of the billows— O gather me to thee, my dear, On soft forgetful pillows ! O gather me in arms of love As maidens plucking posies, Or mists that fold about a dove, Or valleys full of roses ! O let me fade and fall away From waking i…
1899 · PDF PAGE 202
… sky I see no sign that sun will break again, And force the clouds to yield their rapid rain, And utterly absorb our misery. Dull as the day is, in my heart I feel An anguish, chill and adamant as steel, And, like a mist of poison, heavily On my whole soul, bound down upon the wheel, _ There comes a spectre, dead, whose name is Fear. Ah God, he comes so near! In the pale fear of Death I have no share. I am through Love triumphant over him ; I almost yearn toward the stooping brim, And fledge the wings my soul is given to wear, And float in sunl…
1910 · PDF PAGE 390
…t, white wrath of gales, Fill the dread armoury of sense. Nor shines the sun; nor moon, nor star Their subtle light at all display ; Nor day, nor night, dispute the scaur: All’s one intolerable grey. Black Ilyns, grey rocks, white hills of snow! No flower, no colour: life is not. This is no way for men to go From Severn-mouth to Camelot. Despair, the world upon his speed, Drive (like a lion from his den Whom hunger hunts) the man at need, Sir Palamede the Saracen.
1910 · PDF PAGE 390
…t, white wrath of gales, Fill the dread armoury of sense. Nor shines the sun; nor moon, nor star Their subtle light at all display ; Nor day, nor night, dispute the scaur: All’s one intolerable grey. Black Ilyns, grey rocks, white hills of snow! No flower, no colour: life is not. This is no way for men to go From Severn-mouth to Camelot. Despair, the world upon his speed, Drive (like a lion from his den Whom hunger hunts) the man at need, Sir Palamede the Saracen.
1912 · PDF PAGE 22
…r. The child complains—how feebly now! His eyes are blank ; he looks at her; The cold sweat gathers on his brow. To save the world—three days away|! His life in knighthood’s life is furled, And knighthood’s life in his—to-day |— His darling staked against the world | Will he die there, his task undone? Or dare he live, at such a cost? He cries against the impassive sun : The world is dim, is all but lost. Then, with the bitterness of death Cutting his soul, his fingers clench The piteous passage of her breath. The dews of horror rise and drench…
1913 · PDF PAGE 222
…ed snow , But no reflection swims upon the iris 'd margin , No shadow falls on the smooth flood below . Down the thousand steps when the day was sinking Came the King's White Daughter, her peacocks, and her page, And before them moved the players of the charméd music singing , Death on the one hand and on the other Age . On the last Bridal step when the moon was on the river - Purple dark , with white stars, shining through above The Princess took her gold crown and cast it off for ever , Because for her gold crown she had slain her love . Fort…