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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.

Poem by Aleister Crowley
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Book: Reflection on the Important Things