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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!

Poem by Aleister Crowley
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Book: Reflection on the Important Things