Submit Your Poems
Get Your Premium Membership

Best Famous Aleister Crowley Poems

Here is a collection of the all-time best famous Aleister Crowley poems. This is a select list of the best famous Aleister Crowley poetry. Reading, writing, and enjoying famous Aleister Crowley poetry (as well as classical and contemporary poems) is a great past time. These top poems are the best examples of Aleister Crowley poems.

Search for the best famous Aleister Crowley poems, articles about Aleister Crowley poems, poetry blogs, or anything else Aleister Crowley poem related using the PoetrySoup search engine at the top of the page.

See also: Best Member Poems

Go Back

by Aleister Crowley | |

The Tent

 Only the stars endome the lonely camp,
Only the desert leagues encompass it;
Waterless wastes, a wilderness of wit,
Embattled Cold, Imagination's Cramp.
Now were the Desolation fain to stamp The congealed Spirit of man into the pit, Save that, unquenchable because unlit, The Love of God burns steady, like a Lamp.
It burns ! beyond the sands, beyond the stars.
It burns ! beyond the bands, beyond the bars.
And so the Expanse of Mystery, veil by veil, Burns inward, plume on plume still folding over The dissolved heart of the amazéd lover- The angel wings upon the Holy Grail! W'aint t' Aissha.


by Aleister Crowley | |

The Hermit

 NOW the quietude of earth
Nestles deep my heart within;
Friendships new and strange have birth
Since I left the city’s din.
Here the tempest stays its guile, Like a big kind brother plays, Romps and pauses here awhile From its immemorial ways.
Now the silver light of dawn, Slipping through the leaves that fleck My one window, hurries on, Throws its arms around my neck.
Darkness to my doorway hies, Lays her chin upon the roof, And her burning seraph eyes Now no longer keep aloof.
And the ancient mystery Holds its hands out day by day, Takes a chair and croons with me By my cabin built of clay.
When the dusky shadow flits, By the chimney nook I see Where the old enchanter sits, Smiles and waves and beckons me.


by Aleister Crowley | |

Hymn to Pan

 SING his praises that doth keep
 Our flocks from harm.
Pan, the father of our sheep; And arm in arm Tread we softly in a round, Whilst the hollow neighbouring ground Fills the music with her sound.
Pan, O great god Pan, to thee Thus do we sing! Thou who keep'st us chaste and free As the young spring: Ever be thy honour spoke From that place the morn is broke To that place day doth unyoke!


by Aleister Crowley | |

The Quest

 High, hollowed in green
above the rocks of reason
lies the crater lake
whose ice the dreamer breaks
to find a summer season.
'He will plunge like a plummet down far into hungry tides' they cry, but as the sea climbs to a lunar magnet so the dreamer pursues the lake where love resides.


by Aleister Crowley | |

Thanatos Basileos

 The serpent dips his head beneath the sea
His mother, source of all his energy
Eternal, thence to draw the strength he needs
On earth to do indomitable dees
Once more; and they, who saw but understood
Naught of his nature of beatitude
Were awed: they murmured with abated breath;
Alas the Master; so he sinks in death.
But whoso knows the mystery of man Sees life and death as curves of one same plan.


by Aleister Crowley | |

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 me.
Seventy light-yaers! As I near That gate of light that men call death, its cold Pale gleam begins to pulse, a throbbing sphere, Systole and diastole of eager gold, New life immortal, wartmth of passion bleed Till night's black velvet burn to crimson.
Hark! It is thy voice, Thy word, the secret seed Of rapture that admonishes the dark.
Swift! By necessity most righteous drawn, Hermes, authentic augur of the dawn!


by Aleister Crowley | |

The Five Adorations

 I praise Thee, God, whose rays upstart beneath the Bright
and Morning Star:
Nowit asali fardh salat assobhi allahu akbar.
I praise Thee, God, the fierce and swart; at noon Thou ridest forth to war! Nowit asali fardh salat assohri allahu akabr.
I praise Thee, God, whose arrows dart their royal radiance o'er the scar: Nowit asali fardh salat asasri allahu akabr.
I praise Thee, God, whose fires depart, who drivest down the sky thy car: Nowit asali fardh salat al maghrab allahu akabr.
I praise Thee, God, whose purple heart is hidden in the abyss afar: Nowit asali fardh salat al asha allahu akabr.
DOST ACHIHA KHAN.


by Aleister Crowley | |

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
In childhood merry as divine, enchenated earth!
Dissolve my rapture in Thine own, a sacred slaugther
Whereby to capture and atone the soul of water!
Fill thou my mind with gleaming Thought intense and rare
To One refined, outflung to naught, the Word of Air!
Most, bridal bound, my quintessentil Form thus freeing
From self, be found one Selfhood blent in Spirit Being.


by Aleister Crowley | |

At Sea

 As night hath stars, more rare than ships
In ocean, faint from pole to pole,
So all the wonder of her lips
Hints her innavigable soul.
Such lights she gives as guide my bark; But I am swallowed in the swell Of her heart's ocean, sagely dark, That holds my heaven and holds my hell.
In her I live, a mote minute Dancing a moment in the sun: In her I die, a sterile shoot Of nightshade in oblivion.
In her my elf dissolves, a grain Of salt cast careless in the sea; My passion purifies my pain To peace past personality.
Love of my life, God grant the years Confirm the chrism - rose to rood! Anointing loves, asperging tears In sanctifying solitude! Man is so infinitely small In all these stars, determinate.
Maker and moulder of them all, Man is so infinitely great!


by Aleister Crowley | |

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 the glimmer of our skins, the tune
Og our ripe rythm, seemed the hideous play
Of death-worms crawling on a corpse,afloat
With life that takes its thirst
Only from things accurst.
Closer than Clodia's clasp, Death had me down To his black heart, and fed upon my breath, So that we seemed a stilness -whiter than The stars, more silent than the stars, a crown Of Stars ! For in the icy kiss of death I found that God that is denied to man So long as love and thought And life avail him aught.


by Aleister Crowley | |

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
Through the infinite seas of transcendental trances.
Yea! all the hoarded seed of all my fancies Bursts in a shower of suns! The wine-cup brims And bubbles over; I drink deep hymns Of sorceries, of spells, of necromancies; And all my spirit shudders; dew bedims My sight -these girls and their alluring glances! Their eyes that burn like dawn's lascivious lances Walking all earth to love -to love! Life skims The cream of joy.
If God could see what man sees, (Intoxicating Nellies, Mauds and Nances!) I see Him leave the sapphrine expanses, The choir serene and the celestial air To swoon into their sacramental hair!


by Aleister Crowley | |

Dumb

 Gabriel whispered in mine ear
His archangelic poesie.
How can I write? I only hear The sobbing murmur of the sea.
Raphael breathed and bade me pass His rapt evangel to mankind; I cannot even match, alas! The ululation of the wind.
The gross grey gods like gargoyles spit On every poet's holy head; No mustard-seed of truth or wit In those curst furrows, quick or dead! A tithe of what I know would cleanse The leprosy of earth; and I - My limits are like other men's.
I must live dumb, and dumb must die!


by Aleister Crowley | |

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 sole content
How tedious were he fit to comprehend
Himself! More, this our noble element
Of fire in nature, love in spirit, unkenned
Life hath no spring, no axle, and no end.
His body a bloody-ruby radiant With noble passion, sun-souled Lucifer Swept through the dawn colossal, swift aslant On Eden's imbecile perimeter.
He blessed nonentity with every curse And spiced with sorrow the dull soul of sense, Breathed life into the sterile universe, With Love and Knowledge drove out innocence The Key of Joy is disobedience.


by Aleister Crowley | |

Independence

 Come to my arms --- is it eve? is it morn? 
Is Apollo awake? Is Diana reborn? 
Are the streams in full song? Do the woods whisper hush 
Is it the nightingale? Is it the thrush? 
Is it the smile of the autumn, the blush 
Of the spring? Is the world full of peace or alarms? 
Come to my arms, Laylah, come to my arms! 

Come to my arms, though the hurricane blow.
Thunder and summer, or winter and snow, It is one to us, one, while our spirits are curled In the crimson caress: we are fond, we are furled Like lilies away from the war of the world.
Are there spells beyond ours? Are there alien charms? Come to my arms, Laylah, come to my arms! Come to my arms! is it life? is it death? Is not all immortality born of your breath? Are not heaven and hell but as handmaids of yours Who are all that enflames, who are all that allures, Who are all that destroys, who are all that endures? I am yours, do I care if it heals me or harms? Come to my arms, Laylah, come to my arms!


by Aleister Crowley | |

Optimist

 Kill off mankind,
And give the Earth a chance!
Nature might find
In her inheritance
The seedlings of a race
Less infinitely base.


by Aleister Crowley | |

Prologue to Rodin in Rime

 To Kathleen-

Nor I can give, nor you can take; endures
The simple truth of me that is yours.
Is not the music mingled with the form When all the heavens break in blind black storm? Are we not veiled as Gods, and cruel as they, Smiting our brilliance on the shuddering clay? Silence and darkness cover us, confirm Our splendour to its unappointed term: For all the men homunculi that dance Around us shudder at our brilliance.
These puppets perish in the good grand glare, Our sworded sunlight in the boundless air ! These bats need cloisters; these tame birds a cage; How should they know the Masters of the Age? Or understand when the archangels cry Adoring us Ellên kat' asterh ei?


by Aleister Crowley | |

The Hawk and the Babe

 [Dedicated to Raymond Radclyffe]

I am that hawk of gold
Proud in adamantine poise
On the pillars of torqoise,
See,beyond the starry fold,
Where a darkling orb is rolled.
There, beneath a grove of yew, Plays a babe.
Should I despise Such a foam of gold, and eyes Burning beryline, so blue That the sun seems peeping through? Did I swwop, were Heaven amazed? With my beak I strike but once; Out there leap a million suns.
Through the universe that blazed Screams theit light, and death is dazed.
In my womb the babe may leap; Seek him not within my eye! Nor demand thou of me why I should plunge from crystal steep Like a plummet to the deep! See yon solitary star! What a world of blackness wraps Round it! Unimagined gaps! Let it be! Content thy car With the voyage to things that are! Nor, an thou perchance behold How I plunge and batten on Earth's exentrate carrion, Deem torquoise match midden-mould Or deny the Hawk of Gold!


by Aleister Crowley | |

The Rose and the Cross

 Out of the seething cauldron of my woes,
Where sweets and salt and bitterness I flung;
Where charmed music gathered from my tongue,
And where I chained strange archipelagoes
Of fallen stars; where fiery passion flows 
A curious bitumen; where among
The glowing medley moved the tune unsung
Of perfect love: thence grew the Mystic Rose.
Its myriad petals of divided light; Its leaves of the most radiant emerald; Its heart of fire like rubies.
At the sight I lifted up my heart to God and called: How shall I pluck this dream of my desire? And lo! there shaped itself the Cross of Fire!


by Aleister Crowley | |

The Pentagram

 [Dedicated to George Raffalovich]


In the Years of the Primal Course, in the dawn of terrestrial
birth,
Man mastered the mammoth and horse, and Man was the
Lord of the Earth.
He made him an hollow skin from the heart of an holy tree, He compassed the earth therien, and Man was the Lord of the Sea.
He controlled the vigour of steam, he harnessed the light- ning for hire; He drove the celestial team, and man was the Lord of the Fire.
Deep-mouthed from their thrones deep-seated, the choirs of the æeons declare The last of the demons defeated, for Man is the Lord of the Air.
Arise, O Man, in thy strength! the kingdom is thine to inherit, Till the high gods witness at lenght that Man is the Lord of his spirit.


by Aleister Crowley | |

The Titanic

 Forth flashed the serpent streak of steel,
Consummate crown of man's device;
Down crashed upon an immobile
And brainless barrier of ice.
Courage! The grey gods shoot a laughing lip: - Let not faith founder with the ship! We reel before the blows of fate; Our stout souls stagger at the shock.
Oh! there is Something ultimate Fixed faster than the living rock.
Courage! Catastrophe beyond belief Harden our hearts to fear and grief! The gods upon the Titans shower Their high intolerable scorn; But no god knoweth in what hour A new Prometheus may be born.
Courage! Man to his doom goes driving down; A crown of thorns is still a crown! No power of nature shall withstand At last the spirit of mankind: It is not built upon the sand; It is not wastrel to the wind.
Courage! Disaster and destruction tend To taller triumph in the end.