Arhan poem – Aleister Crowley poems | Poetry Monster

A poem by Alistar Crowley (1875-1947)

When the chill of earth black-breasted is uplifted at the

glance

Of the red sun million-crested, and the forest blossoms

dance

With the light that stirs and lustres of the dawn, and with

the bloom

Of the wind’s cheek as it clusters from the hidden valley’s

gloom :

Then I walk in woodland spaces, musing on the solemn

ways

Of the immemorial places shut behind the starry rays

Of the East and all its splendour, of the West and all its peace;

And the stubborn lights grow tender, and the hard sounds

hush and cease.

In the wheel of heaven revolving, mysteries of death and

birth,

In the wonb of time dissolving, shape anew a heaven and

earth

Ever changing, ever growing, ever dwindling, ever dear,

Ever worth the passion glowing to distil a doubtful tear.

These are with me, these are of me, these approve me,

these obey,

Choose me, move me, fear me, love me, master of the

night and day.

These are real, these illusion : I am of them, false or frail,

True or lasting, all is fusion in the spirit’s shadow-veil,

Till the knowledge -Lotus flowering hides the world

beneath its stem;

Neither I, nor nor God life-showering, find a counterpart in

them.

As a spirit in a vision shows a countenance in fear,

Laughs the looker to derision, only comes to disappear,

Gods and mortals, mind and matter, in the glowing bud

dissever :

Vein from vein they rend and shatter, and are nothingness

for ever.

In the blessed, the enlightened, perfect eyes these visions

pass,

Pass and cease, poor shadows frightened,

leave no stain

upon the glass.

One last stroke, O heart- free master, one last certain

calm of will,

And the maker of Disaster shall be strcken and grow

still.

Burn thou to the core of matter, to the spirit’s utmost

flame,

Consciousness and sense to shatter, ruin sight and form

and name!

Shatter, lake-reflected spectre; lake, rise up in mist to

sun;

Sun, dissolve in showers of nectar, and the Master’s

work is done.

Nectar perfume gently stealing, masterful and sweet and

strong,

Cleanse the world with light of healing in the ancient

House of Wrong !

Free a million mortals on the wheel og being

tossed !

Open wide the mystic portals, and be altogether lost!

At Akyab.

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