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Poem 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 turquoise, 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 swoop, 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 turquoise match midden-mould Or deny the Hawk of Gold! Aleister Crowley Aleister Crowley's other poems: 1510 Views |
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