On – On – Poet
I to the open road, You to the hunchbacked street – Which of us two Shall the earlier rue That day we chanced to meet? I with a heart that’s sound, You with sick
Pan to Artemis
Uncharmable charmer Of Bacchus and Mars In the sounding rebounding Abyss of the stars! O virgin in armour, Thine arrows unsling In the brilliant resilient First rays of the spring! By the force of
The Disciples
“To Lionel Engers-Kennedy: to the memory of Hargrave Jennings: and To A. C. W. G. and H. E. H.” Beneath the vine tree and the fig Where mortal cares may not intrude, On melon
Dionysus
I bring ye wine from above, From the vats of the storied sun; For every one of yer love, And life for every one. Ye shall dance on hill and level; Ye shall sing
Athor and Asar
[Dedicated to Frank Harris, editor of Vanity Fair] On the black night, beneath the winter moon, I clothed me in the limbs of Codia, Swooning my soul out into her red throat, So that
La Gitana
Your hair was full of roses in the dewfall as we danced, The sorceress enchanting and the paladin entranced, In the starlight as we wove us in a web of silk and steel Immemorial
Hymn to Lucifer
Ware, nor of good nor ill, what aim hath act? Without its climax, death, what savour hath Life? an impeccable machine, exact He paces an inane and pointless path To glut brute appetites, his
An Oath
(An Oath wrtitten during the Dawn Meditation) Aiwaz! Confirm my troth with thee! my will inspire With secret sperm of subtle, free, creating Fire! Mould thou my very flesh as Thine, renew my birth
The Wizard Way
[Dedicated to General J. C. F. Fuller] Velvet soft the night-star glowed Over the untrodden road, Through the giant glades of yew Where its ray fell light as dew Lighting up the shimmering veil
The Buddhist
There never was a face as fair as yours, A heart as true, a love as pure and keen. These things endure, if anything endures. But, in this jungle, what high heaven immures Us
The Twins
[Dedicated to Austin Osman Spare] Have pity! show no pity! Those eyes that send such shivers Into my brain and spine : oh let them Flame like the ancient city Swallowed up by the
A Birthday
“Aug.” 10, 1911. Full moon to-night; and six and twenty years Since my full moon first broke from angel spheres! A year of infinite love unwearying – No circling seasons, but perennial spring! A
Au Bal
[Dedicated to Horace Sheridan-Bickers] A vision of flushed faces, shining limbs, The madness of the music that entrances All life in its delirium of dances! The white world glitters in the void, and swims
Logos
Out of the night forth flamed a star – mine own! Now seventy light-years nearer as I urge Constant my heart through the abyss unknown, Its glory my sole guide while space surge About
The Neophyte
To-night I tread the unsubstantial way That looms before me, as the thundering night Falls on the ocean: I must stop, and pray One little prayer, and then – what bitter fight Flames at