A SAINT'S DAMNATION
by: Aleister Crowley (1875-1947)
- OU buy my
spirit with those shameless eyes
- That burn my soul, you loose the torrent stream
- Of my desire, you make my lips your prize,
-
- And on them burns the whole life's hope: you deem
- You buy a heart; but I am well aware
- How my damnation dwells in that supreme
-
- Passion to feel upon your shoulders bare,
- And pass the dewy twilight of our sin
- In the intolerable flames of hair
-
- That clothe my body from your head; you win
- The devil's bargain; I am yours to kill,
- Yours, for one kiss; my spirit for your skin!
-
- O bitter love, consuming all my will!
- O love destroying, that hast drained my life
- Of all those fountains of dear blood that fill
-
- My heart! O woman, would I call you wife?
- Would I content you with one touch divine
- To flood your spirit with the clinging strife
-
- Of perfect passionate joy, the joy of wine,
- The drunkenness of extreme pleasure, filled
- From sin's amazing cup. Oh, mine, mine, mine,
-
- Mine, if your kisses maddened me or killed,
- Mine, at the price of my damnation deep,
- Mine, if you will, as once your glances willed!
-
- Take me, or break me, slay or soothe to sleep,
- If only yours one hour, one perfect hour,
- Remembrance and despair and hope to steep.
-
- In the infernal potion of that flower,
- My poisonous passion for your blood! Behold!
- How utterly I yield, how gladly dower
-
- Our sin with my own spirit's quenched gold,
- Clothe love with my own soul's immortal power,
- Give thee my body as a fire to hold--
- O love, no words, no songs--your breast my bower!
"A Saint's Damnation"
is reprinted from The Soul of Osiris. London: Kegan Paul,
Trench, Trubner and Co., 1911. |
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POEMS BY ALEISTER CROWLEY |
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