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Aleister Crowley's Poetry, by popularity

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  • Beneath the vine tree and the fig
    Where mortal cares may not intrude,
    37 lines
  • I
    How should I seek to make a song for thee
    29 lines
  • The South wind said to the palms:
    My lovers sing me psalms;
    42 lines
  • Mother of Light, and the Gods! Mother of Music, awake!
    Silence and speech are at odds; Heaven and Hell are at
    37 lines
  • Only the stars endome the lonely camp,
    Only the desert leagues encompass it;
    15 lines
  • [Dedicated to Austin Osman Spare]
    68 lines
  • Hear me, Lord of the Stars!
    For thee I have worshipped ever
    194 lines
  • Forth flashed the serpent streak of steel,
    Consummate crown of man's device;
    28 lines
  • I
    The secret of the House of Set
    86 lines
  • To-night I tread the unsubstantial way
    That looms before me, as the thundering night
    70 lines
  • I
    The cloud my bed is tinged with blood and foam.
    257 lines
  • [Dedicated to K.M.Ward]
    42 lines
  • Hail to the golden One
    Seen in the midmost Sun
    36 lines
  • There never was a face as fair as yours,
    A heart as true, a love as pure and keen.
    28 lines
  • AN ATTACK ON BARBERCRAFT
    [Dedicated to George Cecil Jones]
    26 lines
  • [Dedicated to Raymond Radclyffe]
    I am that hawk of gold
    31 lines
  • I praise Thee, God, whose rays upstart beneath the Bright
    and Morning Star:
    16 lines
  • I to the open road,
    You to the hunchbacked street -
    79 lines
  • TO LAYLAH EIGHT-AND-TWENTY
    Lamp of living loveliness,
    43 lines
  • To Kathleen-
    Nor I can give, nor you can take; endures
    17 lines
  • [Dedicated to George Raffalovich]
    20 lines
  • Out of the night forth flamed a star -mine own!
    Now seventy light-years nearer as I urge
    14 lines
  • Lo! I lament. Fallen is the sixfold Star:
    Slain is Asar.
    50 lines
  • The serpent dips his head beneath the sea
    His mother, source of all his energy
    10 lines
  • Nor thou, Habib, nor I are glad,
    when rosy limbs and sweat entwine;
    32 lines, 1 comment
  • Here rests beneath this hospitable spot
    A youth to flats and flatties not unknown.
    16 lines
  • [Dedicated to Frank Harris, editor of Vanity Fair]
    On the black night, beneath the winter moon,
    17 lines
  • The mighty sound of forests murmuring
    In answer to the dread command;
    76 lines
  • I bring ye wine from above,
    From the vats of the storied sun;
    45 lines
  • When the chill of earth black-breasted is uplifted at the
    glance
    61 lines
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