A poem by Alistar Crowley (1875-1947)

Here rests beneath this hospitable spot

A youth to flats and flatties not unknown.

The Plymouth Brethren gave it to him hot;

Trinity, Cambridge, claimed him for her own.

At chess a minor master, Hoylake set

His handicap a 2. Love drove him crazy;

Thrre thousand women used to call him “pet”;

In other gardens daffodil or daisy?

He climbed a lot of mountains in his time.

He stalked the tiger, bear and elephant.

he wrote a stack of poems, some sublime

Some not. Plays, essays, pictures, tales -my aunt!

He had the gift of laughing at himself.

Most affably he talked and walked with God.

And now the silly bastard’s on the shelf,

We’ve buried him beneath another sod.

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