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Star In the West TNR.pdf - The Hermetic Library

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That I bade workers work, and lovers kiss;<br />

Laughed with <strong>the</strong> Stoic at <strong>the</strong> dream of pain,<br />

And preached with Jesus <strong>the</strong> evangel–bliss.*<br />

*Mysteries: Lyrical and Dramatic, vol. i, pp. 109-112. (<strong>The</strong> metre though not <strong>the</strong> cadence<br />

is that of “Laus Veneris.”)<br />

Whilst such lines as <strong>the</strong> following in <strong>the</strong> second poem also remind us of <strong>the</strong><br />

astronomer poet:<br />

O thou, zelator of this Paradise,<br />

Tell thou <strong>the</strong> secret of’ <strong>the</strong> pillar! None<br />

Can hear <strong>the</strong>e, of <strong>the</strong> souls beneath <strong>the</strong> sun.<br />

Speak! or <strong>the</strong> very Godhead in <strong>the</strong>e dies.<br />

For we are many, and thy name is One.*<br />

*<strong>The</strong> Temple of <strong>the</strong> Holy Ghost, vol. i, p. 191.<br />

Before we leave <strong>the</strong> glowing east, one more curious similarity still strikes us,<br />

it is that though in so many ways <strong>the</strong> ideas of Aleister Crowley are akin to<br />

those of Omar Khayyám, yet his fertile imagination also engenders flights as<br />

spiritual as those contained in <strong>the</strong> melodious ghazals of Jeláladdín. <strong>In</strong> more<br />

than one place we come across lines similar to <strong>the</strong>se in Tannhäuser:<br />

*Tannhäuser, vol. i, p. 261.<br />

I say, <strong>the</strong>n, “I;” and yet it is not “I”<br />

Distinct, but “I” incorporate in All.<br />

I am <strong>the</strong> Resurrection and <strong>the</strong> Life!<br />

<strong>The</strong> work is finished, and <strong>the</strong> Night rolled back!<br />

I am <strong>the</strong> rising Sun of Life and Light,<br />

<strong>The</strong> Glory of <strong>the</strong> Shining of <strong>the</strong> Dawn!<br />

I am Osiris! I <strong>the</strong> Lord of Life<br />

Triumphant over death—<br />

O Sorrow, Sorrow, Sorrow of <strong>the</strong> World!*<br />

That such similarities as we have pointed out above show Aleister Crowley<br />

to be a copyist, must be far from <strong>the</strong> minds of all his readers. Youth most<br />

certainly tends towards certain ideals, and frequently results in a definite<br />

hero-worship; but genius cannot be bound for long; it will eventually find its

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