One Star...


Thy feet in mire, thine head in murk,
     O man, how piteous thy plight,
The doubts that daunt, the ills that irk,
     Thou hast nor wit nor will to fight —
How hope in heart, or worth in work?
     No star in sight!

Thy Gods proved puppets of the priest.
     "Truth? All's relation!" science sighed.
In bondage with thy brother beast,
     Love tortured thee, as Love's hope died
And Love's faith rotted. Life no least
     Dim star descried.

Thy cringing carrion cowered and crawled
     To find itself a chance-cast clod
Whose Pain was purposeless; appalled
     That aimless accident thus trod
Its agony, that void skies sprawled
     On the vain sod!

All souls eternally exist,
     Each individual, ultimate
Perfect - each makes itself a mist
     Of mind and flesh to celebrate
With some twin mask their tender tryst
     Insatiate.

Some drunkards, doting on the dream,
     Despair that it should die, mistake
Themselves for their own shadow-scheme.
     One star can summon them to wake
To self; star-souls serene that gleam
     On life's calm lake.

That shall end never that began.
     All things endure because they are.
Do what thou wilt, for every man
     And every woman is a star.
Pan is not dead; he liveth, Pan!
     Break down the bar!

To man I come, the number of
     A man my number, Lion of Light;
I am The Beast whose Law is Love.
     Love under will, his royal right —
Behold within, and not above,
     One star in sight!

A. Crowley “One star in sight”

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